VII- Bard

The twang of a lute summons all to the maiden though there are rumors, suspicions that it is not her words, nor song, nor beguiling dance that brings attention to her show It is the glimmer in her eye, the rose in her cheek, a…

An idling place

The empty swing invites all-comers to sit awhile to dangle, legs and dreams.   I stand and gently rock the empty swing warmed by the end of summer in fields of afterglow.   Sunflowers with heavy heads of seed turn their upward gaze towards the…

There’s Not Many

There’s not many Who could say They saw me through My darkest days When times were bad There’s not many In fact, there really Isn’t any Who had the strength To see me through There’s not many Not even you So know I’ll be fine…

Are Words Enough?

Are words enough? As silence falls With ready tears And pieces of my heart. I wonder aloud, Are words enough? To reconnect And pull you close. Our guarded embrace – murmured thoughts Are words enough? To make you stay. Through turbulent, biting anger. rage against…

A day to reminisce.

someday when we’re old and the winters sway in the wrinkles adorning our faces would wrinkle more thinking about this day and plenty of them fragments would flood in simultaneously then, we’d realise memories aren’t only beautiful but equally cold.

Screenshot of Our Times!

Oh what a power that is when you hold and press the power and volume buttons on your phone at the same time! Voila! A picture framed a moment so fleeting freezes on your screen for eternity or at least today’s abridged version of eternity…

Confidence is a dress that always fits (Hour 7)

Lagos traffic at close of business does a thing or two to you then it leaves you grumpy and tired Your body feels heavy but at the same time, you can’t feel a thing You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you strip…

Hour 7

I walked on roads of asphalt towards the big great dam, the pool reflecting the clouds in the child’s eyes. Its water the colour of the sky, it reminded me of the lakes in Slovenia that filtered themselves through layers of rock. Remember how you…

Hour seven

The thunder claps did not bother, the pouring rain could not dampen our spirits as we frolicked on our first weekend as newlyweds we’ve come here before with the children and didn’t we tear our hair pandering to their every need now it’s different we’re…

Weird Is What We Make It – hour 7

Weird is what we make it And normal’s just myth Paid for by their bottom line It never did exist They tell you what you want to wear Then tell you what to eat In marketing and strategy And everyone you meet Give me gothic…

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