Sunday, 2 December 2012

The lady at the bank


In three poems of three titles,
Sip from my dream kettle.
It is a story of a lady beautiful like flower,
Who sits at the bank of a river,
The Lady at the bank!
The Lady at the bank!

Lady at the bank
Almost at the burial of the day,
I resolve to search for clay,
For approaching is the month of May,
The month in which my skill will stay.

In search of clay, I walk miles,
I wasn’t in a hurry so I walk in style,
And as the sun bids me bye,
I waved back and heaved a sigh.

Not far from the bank, is a river bank
I saw a lady, a product of clay,
Lost in thought, she sits at the bank
Oh Christ! Her appearance bids me stay!



I stood in awe, oh what a creature!
Product of creation, daughter of nature,
Lips coloured like fresh stew,
Body fresh like the morning dew,

Oh! She is beautiful!
Her beauty works my tool
And so for her I write,
With my pen of light.

At her sight, my heart pulse races,
She steals her beauty from all races,
She has sipped from the sea of tribes,
Adorned with beads like a royal bride, 

Curl and long hair like the Indians of Asia,
Balance like the monument of Persia,
 African woman in feature, curved figure eight,
Nose pointed, pointed and straight,

Like the sky, she accommodate all mystery,
Her beauty tells millions of stories,
The mystery of beauty,
And the secret of divinity,


Closer I draw to take a sip of grace.
Her natural seat of earth
Awakened my art of heart
Lady at the bank let no one take her place

As I moved closer
 I wonder and ponder
Could she be thinking?
Is she sleeping?

Seconds has passed into minutes
And minutes mounted the tower of hours
Yet she is stable and mute
Seems she awaits the evening shower

Lady at the bank
Lady at the bank
Please speak
Your voice I seek

And then in the silence of my thought
Came an intruder
In the mincing of words
He tells the reason behind her silence
The lady at the bank
Has a heart of steel
Heart of steel


Heart of steel
Don’t bother to steal
It’s a heart of steel
Don’t bother to break it
It’s been oven-ed by the heat

It’s a heart of steel
Her heart of steel
It’s been fired by the heat of betrayal
 Don’t cajole her by being loyal

She has swam through the ocean of deceit
Don’t pretend like you can lick her feet
Cos she has reached the peak of love
Give her a love sum and she will solve

She has reached the pinnacle of lust
Be careful with her you might get lost
From her wound, blood gushed like flood
Peep not you won’t see her blood

Once, her robe of silk was clean
Then she was in her teens
Her orange was then unpeeled
Her cup of milk was filled

She once walked with dignity
Was once treated like a celebrity
In fact, she was being prepared to be a bride
Until suddenly someone plucked her fruit of pride

She once wears shoes
Until she was being fooled
She once speak in words
Until she was pierced with sword

She once looked into eyes
Until she was made to cry
If you can
If you will not be banned

Touch her earthly chair
Feel her flowing tears
You will feel and see
The sorrow in her tears

You will hear
The noise in her air
The reason she is dead to feelings
Why in the school of love she is missing



Look to her and seek
Hear from her as she speaks
Her heart of love is sealed
She has a heart of steel

And so, she wakes from her slumber of thought
And give the answer to my question
She tells the story of a trusted friend
Who showed her the ‘End’ in ‘Friend’
Who robbed her of her pride
Who buried her dignity and pride
She says,          ‘he robbed me
He robbed me’

He robbed me
With deceit he laced my drink
With lies he paint me pink
With his sweat, he watered my plant
With force he removed my pant
He robbed me

He emptied my mug of milk
Tore my robe of silk
He rapped my lips in a kiss
Robbed my heart of its peace
He robbed me
He forced his pen on my notes
In lust he tore my clothe
He naked my body in cold
Rust my heart of gold
He robbed me

He buried my dignity in a casket
Turned my bucket to a basket
He naked me, he emptied me,
He robed me, he raped me
He robbed me

At the revelation of the secret
I remember my mission
I’m still in search of clay
To mould a flower vase, not a broken heart
I left the scene, the river bank
I left her alone,
The lady at the bank.
                                                            Tola Adegbite

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