Amuse: The sunset 

Sometimes I do think the sun was angry when she was hot

People hide underneath the tree branches, some throw down mats

And in few minutes they snore out there fatigue without remorse

They blow trumpets, letting their mouths wobble in defeat

Yet I wonder if by chance the suns heat was responsible, 

As her benevolence was misinterpreted as a queer malevolence

But she did her work and as the day will be soon spent

She must take her heat somewhere else but the snorer must snore


Image by my twelve year old brother, Chijindu Favor Iroegbu who just celebrated his birthday yesterday, 18/01/2018. A cheerful year to him, I wish. 


Musing: Observing you

I look upon your face, it shone in the night moon light

In the darkness, where many bodies shuffled about

Dancing, drinking, talking, calling, shouting, but I only heard you

But will you let this light you bring shine in my heart, will you? 

The fine curve of your pouting mouth make me weak

When you smile I feel my heart leap towards you, 

Your hair fall, they fall before my face, hovering about

But I watched it fall, every time, every beautiful moment

So I have made this little musing for you, 

I am hoping to see all smiles this year! 

Lullaby: Decembers’ rain

Fast falls the evening, mild breezes, cold rain, rinsing the dusty roof tops

Dark clouds shadow the moon, the evening is left to wander alone, 

Trees bow to the swift wind; bending, twisting; left and right

But the night was agog with life, the breezes an excuse for heavy sleepers

A week before the heat was sinister, intense but the rain has come

And has come, to usher in the harmattan to the quiet countryside 
Water dripped from tree leaves, the evening kept songs unsung 

Smell of dust cloud the hamlet, the Night herself a little cold

And when the rains came softly, the pattering on the rooftops sang 

Yet crickets quizzed themselves from their hidden citadel

Making this quiet and fine night, Mother Natures own lullaby

Musing: The Ostrich


To you my feathery friend, I write

In the greying fields, your fur I sight

Dangling by your sides are your wings

Your neck is up, for a long time you sing


Caw caw, caw caw those are your favorite words

The wind is your friend, the soil is your playground

The shrub is your hideout, to it you run for safety

Your legs are very strong, your claws are even deadly


In the evenings, the farm fields are your runway

You send stray rats and rodents scampering away

I am not ashamed of you having a bard head

But you my fluffy friend, you are a wonderful bird


In the morning your queer scent fill the farmyard

Your presence serves as scarecrow for our land

But to have you around, beautiful and tall bird 

Is a musing of its own, one that is absolutely good

The Tomato’s tale

And today I met this round twins and sumptuous looking tomato fruit

By the side of the garden the plant grew, I haven’t noticed it till now


Hanging down from her stalk hopelessly like her weight was the plants burden

Where the ants made an abode, in and out they traversed without care

And hers was red with the suns anger and she seemed quite unperturbed

I looked at her again, she bounced about, shy, with the winds push

A huge fly buzzed about her loudly, deafening even I that stood a bit far off

She stared back at me, blushing with the winds unwelcomed surge, I shrugged

Well, hello little man. You have seen me much. To what do I owe your gazing?’

‘I am a passerby, I happened to catch your unusual color against the greenery’

‘Oh thank you, I was aware I wasn’t a museum the last time I checked that was why’

She was disturbed on my presence, it was uninviting, I would feel same too

‘Toh, your beauty has kept me dumbfounded, forgive me fair tomato fruit, 

‘I haven’t found one who combined both grace and grass to such perfectionism’ I said

With a wave of the leaves, the tomato plant seemed to dance or accepted my plea


And now if I let myself ponder on the life of this fellow, how lonely it seemed-

Fulfilling though, she was sitted on good clay, and the wind was her tryst anchor

Yet, I came to learn about this plant, her benevolence to her neighbors

Her humility and perseverance in the stubborn winds and noisy intruders, 

Her patience in the sun, the embarrassing ways psssersby stare at her nakedness

And the refuge she provided to others, to the bees, ants and we who find her a delicacy

This tomato had made me fall in love, not just with my heart, but with my stomach too… 

The path to Harvest

Joy is the fruit blossomed in the heart of the farmer

His smiles are meshed with the days toil and sweat

Patches of brown earth possess a part of his tired face

On his shoulders he carries a huge basket with some tools
And now it is harvest time…  

Now the fields are ripe, the mangoes are heavy with fruits

Birds sing from the tree tops, monkeys dance to their muse

Below the evergreen forest, the farmers find their way

Pathing thru thick mist and grass, old animal dung and dew
The morning was cool, once the path reached the stream side

The farmers stooped to have a handful taste of the waters

The taste is clayey, the scent like a patch of dust with water

The path lead the farmers into the deeper forests now 

The shrubs become scanty, the trees more numerous

And all about dew sail off tree leaves, bouncing into balls

Thriving bird colonies, Natures own secret fine hive

The bamboo forest stood close by, taunting the farmers as they went

Waterfalls let water drops fall and bounce off rocks

Once they arrived the plantation, the work began

And with it, went with countryside music-

And when they sang, they sang of places, far far away

Where the wheat fields are yellow, the cow milk tasteful

They whistle songs and hum when they were tired of songs

At last, the harvest became a pile waiting to go home