We May Have Lost It

We May Have Lost It

By George Amadi

 

There was a time

Lads roped hands

Down the lane

Without a care

In the world skipped

 

There was a time

They wore rags

Down the path

Without a care

In the world tilled

 

There was a time

They wove traps

Down the slope

Without a care

In the world fished

 

There was a time

They dug holes

Down the line

Without a care

In the world hunted

 

But in today’s world

Where lucre only counts

Growing children

A place of value

In the scheme

Of things

Occupy not

 

Watching a poor child

Drown at sea

On television

Following rejection

From nation

To nation

A thought wild

At my mind gnaws:

Have we

At last lost it?

 

Lagos, Sept. 11, 2015

 

End-Of-Year Outing

End-Of-Year Outing

By George Amadi

Low-sugar frothy malt drink

In recycled can chilled

Right beside a chicken

Pie set before me

Sat, a straw, long

Like a radio aerial,

Sticking out from it

My vantage-view table

At a popular eatery

Monitored, as

It were, uninvited

Flies to a meal

Kept at bay

It seemed.

Yet, two on the lunch buzzed,

In utter disregard

To health concerns

Of this customer,

Whilst the pipe,

Like an enforcer

Standing by,

Into an observer,

As harmless as ever

Got transformed when

It mattered most.

But without hesitation,

Not one to be finicky,

Into a juicy pie

Worth its name

I dug my teeth,

Happy to waste time,

Relieved, watching

Closing-hour

Traffic

Build up.

End-of-year marking, pupils           

Of a private school,

In a uniform hat

All decked,

A common bow-tie

To boot,

From their luxury bus

In twos alighted,

The joint stormed,

Every bit of food

Then, snapped up.

Not long after making

Good their exit

Than did

The absent-minded

Rich boys

Return, only

To ask after

IPhones, Tablets,

Automobile-keys,

Lizard-skin wallets,

Among other

Costly belongings,

In a hurry left behind. 

Lagos, Dec. 7, 2014