e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

The old market

What’s it with tech and modern life
Hiding that bad in a modern wife
Who can’t make use of a kitchen knife.

Be she cute in a colourful packet
I’ve got love for an open market
Branded local like a weaved basket.

Bees that stings has its sweets
Yes it’s far less organized like malls
But, I love the mood I get into

Pushing and tip toeing
Then I squeeze, bend and pick,
Plantains, bananas and yams.

Price tags aren’t labelled
On meats, kola, bowls of garri,
Palms and cups of rice and beans.

Umbrellas and trees are the only shades
You see.

The muds, dusts
And sun have their fun
That awakens our ancestral souls.

I so love the market of old times
Buy me a calabash then build me a mud house
In its open space, nature grows taller.


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