Thatched roofs, red muds
Journeying through loads
Off skiff sniff of air,

Black husband met wife
Drank palmwines, swore oats
And made love in huts.

Their darts on the cliff
Had a bond and grip…
More of an eclipse,

Beyond wealth and fames
Beyond grains and games
Like a seed to rain.

Now roses are withered
Now hearts have hatred..
With rings blinking red.

The home that was stiff
Now dethrones Chiefs
As love falls asleep.

The huts disappear
Along with bare trees
As a black man’s home

Have many torn foams;
With these black ladies
Plotting to break bricks.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
©2017, Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com