Adorned in our Monday best we were set loose;
blue uniforms
elegantly starched
pressed and patterned
with saintly white stars.
Like the school girls we were
voices rang shrill almost in sync
our feet caught in the rapture of uncertainty
and a morning which stretched for eternity.

We marched on and the land came alive;
a multitude of rickety stalls
a mosaic of warm, smiling faces behind the
wooden pulpits selling a million sugary wares
delightfully wrapped in bright rolls
ready to feed our swelling ranks.

And to school we went;
questions plucked our youthful hearts
as we half listened to the exaggerated snippets
the petty rumors regurgitated from conversations
of the night before when parents spoke in clear tones,
certain we were too young to know.

Did those streets keep a memory of us?
Did those arteries remember our songs as we cut through
the well-worn paths?

Eyes eager with the bounty of the moment
we had it all:
our hearts
our feet
our streets
and friendships forged in the lazy dust
which carried everything and us
in and out of those childhood places
where all our treasures lay.

 

Osupa 2015

0 Comments Post your own or leave a trackback: Trackback URL

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Adorned in our Monday best we were set loose;
blue uniforms
elegantly starched
pressed and patterned
with saintly white stars.
Like the school girls we were
voices rang shrill almost in sync
our feet caught in the rapture of uncertainty
and a morning which stretched for eternity.

We marched on and the land came alive;
a multitude of rickety stalls
a mosaic of warm, smiling faces behind the
wooden pulpits selling a million sugary wares
delightfully wrapped in bright rolls
ready to feed our swelling ranks.

And to school we went;
questions plucked our youthful hearts
as we half listened to the exaggerated snippets
the petty rumors regurgitated from conversations
of the night before when parents spoke in clear tones,
certain we were too young to know.

Did those streets keep a memory of us?
Did those arteries remember our songs as we cut through
the well-worn paths?

Eyes eager with the bounty of the moment
we had it all:
our hearts
our feet
our streets
and friendships forged in the lazy dust
which carried everything and us
in and out of those childhood places
where all our treasures lay.

 

Osupa 2015

0 Comments Post your own or leave a trackback: Trackback URL

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

OSUPA – lightness & brightness

Commentary. Poetry. Insights. Wellbeing. Nigerian in the diaspora

sevenstarhalo

"Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living."- Jonathan Safran Foer. || student, loves travelling and perhaps baking a cake.||

A Narcissist Writes Letters, To Himself

A Hopefully Formerly Depressed Human Vows To Practice Self-Approval

Bosnian Beauty Pics

Bosnian tourism, nature and beauty pics. Welcome!

Natalie Breuer

Natalie. Writer. Photographer. Etc.

Indie Hero

Brian Marggraf, Author of Dream Brother: A Novel, Independent publishing advocate, New York City dweller

pperbetsky

Art of Africa, Oceania and the Americas!

joeseeberblog

This WordPress.com site is the cat’s pajamas

Political Adventures

Super Girl Political Humor

Juju Films

Cutting edge Multimedia Programming

Break Room Stories

Service Industry Stories and More Since 2012

Crazy Green Thumbs

Chronicling a delusional gardening experience.

Homemade with Mess

who wants life to be tidy when you can have more fun making a mess??!

Writers In The Storm

A Blog On Writing

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

%d bloggers like this: