After the set of the egg-yolk yellow Sun
and the rise of the milky Moon to stardom
and unkind cold antagonized by illuminating
Under the umbrella of the African olive tree.
Grandma opens the lid to her
fountain of tales, and we glean from
the trickling stories of heroes transcending
Notions conveyed to generations in vocals’ vector.
In her atelier of the African olive
grandma paints every picture
with a stroke of gloss
Ancient empires, unsung heroes
brought to the eminence of our
smoky oil lamps. Bravery and betrayal
loyalty and cowardice symbolized by
heroes in oblivion.
Rhythmic chorus of lyrics
We sing, we sing rhythmic folk
and we sing the rhythmic folk
in the rainbow of the olive.
In eccentric imaginations lightened by the
sparkle of the mystic of the fairy city, our
eyes tracing the majestic descend of grandma’s
words. Clever tortoise, kingly lion, talking animals
make sure our ears and her words glue
With eyes flung open, we dream of
peaceful togetherness of preys with predators.
Why would grandma not take me to this
Oluwafemi Babasola is a poet and writer. He loves writing passionately as it is a tool he likes using to express himself. He writes a wide range of genres which includes motivation, sports, fitness and thought-provoking articles. Oluwafemi is a 500 level student of Osun State University, Osogbo in the Agricultural Economics and Extension department.