Golden Chalice Poem by Ibrahim Sambo

With carte Blanche
The cartel of your beauty
Itself expresses

You are, folk's and gentry's
lingo
Jealousy of women
Desire of men

For the town, you are it's poetry
Its Iroko towering pageant

'Golden chalice', the lads call you

Centuries
It cost me, to drink from it
Alas, thousand men, ran mad
Trying

Only now, realized I
That you are, indeed golden
But a poisoned chalice.


I. A. Sambo
19/01/2012
Abuja, Nigeria.