The natives have
(since the seventh month peeped
through the lean crescent eye of the moon)
worn cloaks of festivities.
They dance the rites,
squelching proudly in mud and green pools
of water.
On their heads are smouldering fires of corns
And pears, and ingredients of a lush season.
......
This Sunday,
Before noon,
In my community church,
Wedding bells ringꓽ
Rosemary,
Daughter of our land,
Weds!
Grand invitations
......
I shall always long for the fraternity
Among stars as they party,
Night after night,
Their drunken eyes twinkling with lite.
Saturday is native to weddings and ceremonies
Of anxieties – patterned in coarse sputum of rain.
My friend Bonsy and his wife filled the calendar
With the uselessness of time, levelled against waste
As indicated by the clocks of dew-coated pavements
Of our yawning city.
Next to this was the arrangement of formalities which
Came with the attainment of stress. They haggled
Between themselves, the celebrants. Oh well, they haggled
For the benefits of the church from which the organ must
......
I
Aquiline welcoming bows to the swift
Potential of gales.
Throbs, elated, hit the spleens of antelopes,
Plucking off the feathery hinges on ceremonial clots.
A wild dance has come.
Crapulence of yesterday re-emerges,
Filling the breath of tom-toms beaten
Among Gravevines.
......
I shall always long for the fraternity
Among stars as they party,
Night after night,
Their drunken eyes twinkling with lite.
I
Aquiline welcoming bows to the swift
Potential of gales.
Throbs, elated, hit the spleens of antelopes,
Plucking off the feathery hinges on ceremonial clots.
A wild dance has come.
Crapulence of yesterday re-emerges,
Filling the breath of tom-toms beaten
Among Gravevines.
......
This Sunday,
Before noon,
In my community church,
Wedding bells ringꓽ
Rosemary,
Daughter of our land,
Weds!
Grand invitations
......
The natives have
(since the seventh month peeped
through the lean crescent eye of the moon)
worn cloaks of festivities.
They dance the rites,
squelching proudly in mud and green pools
of water.
On their heads are smouldering fires of corns
And pears, and ingredients of a lush season.
......
Saturday is native to weddings and ceremonies
Of anxieties – patterned in coarse sputum of rain.
My friend Bonsy and his wife filled the calendar
With the uselessness of time, levelled against waste
As indicated by the clocks of dew-coated pavements
Of our yawning city.
Next to this was the arrangement of formalities which
Came with the attainment of stress. They haggled
Between themselves, the celebrants. Oh well, they haggled
For the benefits of the church from which the organ must
......