In Father’s rhyming wall clock, whose tune
zooms the path of the morning’s heart
and ‘ding’ counting, makes way for dawn’s arrival.
In the awakened sky,
beaming rays through the window;
in the early cries of chicks, trailing about defensive mother hens;
in Father’s generous garden of fruits, pasture
and meat;
in the energized backyard calls of puerile children;
in the croaking of frogs, and the hooting of night birds.
Home, here you are, like the cold, dusty breeze of harmattan,
descending like bubbles,
relishing kisses across your polluted scape—
a hollow ground to rest one’s aching back.
Home, here you are, like the perch of moonlight, after daybreak.
Steadily fading, slowly fleeting.
About the Author: Blessing Olayinka is a young and promising writer. She is talented in diverse spheres of arts, ranging from music, writing(all genres), painting, drawing, rebranding etc. She is a lover and promoter of Nature, Humanity, and African history, which is evident in many of her written works. She has published a drama text titled “My mother’s re-incarnate” She has written articles for magazines, and has been featured in writing competitions in which she was awarded certificates.
Photo by Allison Saeng on Unsplash

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