When poverty bewitched our sights
We used to believe no other can cook
Faster than firewoods
Our pepper sauce taste the sweetest
If only milled on milling stone

Our garments clean the best
By the rocky flowing stream;
The goddess of the stream_ we believed
Always took our dirts away to the bed of the stream.

Whenever we mashed and mashed our garments
On the dark rocks of the stream
Our impurities_ we believed
Flushed with the flowing stream to the bed of the stream

Now we living in plenitude
Every thing good at arms length
We begin to realise now:
The gas cookers cook faster than firewoods,
The electric blenders blend faster the mills,
The auto-washing machines wash finer
Than our rocky stream in the past
Where poverty bewitched our sights.

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry
(the Leo with wings flying)

Post a Comment

Previous Post Next Post