The Village Night

The darkness of the night

Gives way to darkened darkness.
The stories told around the fire
Now ride on the chariots of fleeing fireflies.
The stools are overturned
And the fires sleep under ashes.

The earthenware pot resting on the caresses of cunning cockroaches,
Savours the scent and holds tight to the slippery okro
Whose siblings now rest in the bossom of sleeping stomachs.
Giggles have turned snores.

That grow so tall but is assured of a fall at dawn.
The melodies of chirping birds give way to the chatter of crickets
Accompanied by the silent moos from the cattle in distant darkness.
The trees rest their arms and slumber along the night breeze

The moon smiles behind sleeping


In the coziness of my queen size
I miss the warmth of the village mat.

©Lansah Lawrence
March, 2017.


4 thoughts on “The Village Night

  1. Wow, I get to finally comment here after so many tries. Lansah Lawrence writes beautifully. He takes notes of all that makes a good poem and adds it to his poems.


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