In her age of flowering:
She saw her petals glow
Under blissful drizzle of rain
She saw well, rainbow and rays
Some day, when age is age:
Her beauty might link beauties.
Under a shade, near her weary roots;
She stood, staring at shrivelled faith
And greeny leaves of hope dried!
She sat at facade of a collapsed home
Rain-tears; bathed her trampled lawn
The sun which nourished her green
Can not give light to her murky days
She leans and squints through the pane
Dirk-voices of husband’s clan;
Kills more, the infertile field of her navel.
… Oh, she can not seed a young flower
Written by: Stephen Crøwn Gyet
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson