NIGHT GUEST
Hardship and Love
Night guest,
I have no bread
Milk pots are dried as earth in harmattan
Oil drums each hour are empty vessels
Wine jars thirst for a drop
Pots languish in complaint
It’s far since they saw fire’s heat
Even the firewood laments of the crickets torment.
Night guest,
I have only a wooden bed
With no beddings to mat it
Will you mind to sleep without comfort?
Or lie desolate this lonely night
Or choose to lie close to my side
That I may warm you in smooth cuddle
And lie in cradle till the moon fades.
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