ADESINA AJALA

ADESINA AJALA

HOME

Butterflies,

With broken wings,

Sashaying through the air,

Lone, longing for a home.

Their weary antennae swing like white - robbed choristers singing a refrain of a burnt hymnal :

"Home is not in the pocketsof a scented yellow petal..."

"Home's not on this invisible haven of air that bears these feather weights."

"Home is not in this space — this market place."

Home is folded in the shape of a beckoning poem,

& built with the bricks of light,

Where truth is the torch that searches the soul,

Home is where eternity distils into heaven.

©Adesina Ajala

HOW GOLD GOES DIM

I've been a lonesome tenant,

On this abandoned vase,

Waltzed around by no butterfly.

Ripe; my bud broke opened,

Fluttered its showy petals,

Unto the charm of the passing air.

That chanted my fragrance,

Like the songs of revolt,

On the tongues of angry souls.

My lonely vase became a base,

For butterflies in many counts,

Dinning on a cuisine of nectar.

Then my tender root went thirsty,

With my tendril limply curled in the rage of the wind,

How gold goes dim?

Memories dampened my mind,

Like a wasteful grey-haired soul,

Before packs of photo album.

I'm again a lonesome tenant,

On this abandoned vase,

Waltzed around by no butterfly.

©Adesina Ajala

ONCE UPON A TIME

(After Olubola Alamu's short story:

IN LOVING MEMORY OF THE BOUNDLESS CHILD)

i'm a scented hibiscus,

limply swaying in a clay vase,

squatting tearfully on the epitaph of your memory,

the broken memoirs of your childhood,

when life only reflected from the mirror of fiction,

now the child in you gave up your soul,

'you're grown,' childhood drums you a dirge.

©

ADESINA AJALA

ADESINA AJALA is a Nigerian medical doctor with interest in creative writing. He is a budding poet with one of his poems published in an international anthology. Another one has been accepted for an anthology.He has also had three  poems featured by two blogging firms. He desires to be the pride of the scapel and the hope of the pen.