The Moons Tale

Tonight we sit under the moons light
She gave her torch for all to see
From dark houses, or from the seats
Beneath the huge trees in the hamlet
The moons light always came with soft airs
Mild, enticing, strangely something Divine
Then the noises of children playing
Rent the air, yelling, wailing infants
The clouds are patched in different hues
Some dark blue others just black
A little farther away, laughter bursts out
Drawing careless attention, men drinking rum
Some already drunk, looking for their way home
But the kids care less
But then they must have a good laugh
The laugh was for them; palm wine drunks
With the nights moon light plays
First the little boys wrestle under the watch
Of a younger adult, a male who sat on a palm frond seat
The various teams call out to sweating wrestlers
‘Grab him, Beat him, throw him, kill him!’
But there was no killing, just an infant mock fight
The arm wrestling ends when one boy falls
And a shout of triumph rents the air
Then the boys and girls try their strength
On a fierce tug of war
Always, the boys win,
Then comes the oldest granny in the hamlet
Led by two younger adults
Slowly she walked, minding her steps
Watching the gathering of children
As all settle in a sudden, to hear the tale
Perhaps a tale of the Giraffe
And how he mysteriously ate the moon half
Meanwhile the airs blow, crickets quiz
The owl hoot from a far distance
And the moon still shone brightly
Waiting to hear the tale also


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