A Star for the Sleeping Sky
The morning sky, an unfinished artwork,
has a fury of white across its country blues.
Early birds on lintels of twin buildings,
exchanging flights like correspondent
I walk into the new day like its bold sun
covered with hard shell of prayers,
no kite of troubles could swoop.
Let my yams be spread like petals.
Let my barns be full of corns.
Let my yards be bounty for pigeons,
who send me into the morning
with hoots of their prayers &
welcome me back home
a star for the sleeping sky.
A Rehearsal of Happy Minutes
The tree of my childhood still stands
& I am going there to pluck fruits
& stem of memories.
Let me graft its happiness
into this adulthood.
Let me fiddle with the fig leaf
& see the wrath of its soldier ants.
Let me smother a leaf in my mouth
& bear the wrath of its bitterness.
I am still that child (a soft nut in a shell)
blown here & there,
amidst thistles, amidst thorns.
A leaf that lands without a thud.
A sausage tree surviving till maturity.
Let that huge hand across my tiny thighs
be a dry branch withering away its stain.
Let the smack of leather
against my bare back be balm-ed.
Let me be merry in the moonlight
& grin again at grandpa’s folktale-legs,
till nightmare becomes a sleeping partner
& I become a rehearsal of happy minutes
Babatunde Waliyullah Adesokan (Toonday)
writes from Oyo State, Nigeria. He works with First Bank. He is a lover of poetry; a lover of everything that breathes poetry. His works appeared in Pangolin Review, Calamuss, the QuillS, Wales Haiku, Ethel-Zine, Moida Magazine, The Shallow Tales Review, Stillwater Review, Road Runner Review etc.