In The Cold Moonlight Poem by Ugochukwu Aneke

In the cold moonlight
Under the Lamped haven, dearth of moths
Each four household in seclusion sat
And languished events of their importunate thoughts
The embers stunned tongues with warmth
Yet faces shone words in silent.

The father frets, “I lost the lust for women,
My only kiosk, lost to loot -
The pith of my bones, stroke weaken,
Perhaps these travails are of the sweet sins of my youth -
That blindness bothers my mournin’ mind
Soon I be gone, and bother I shall not find”.

My father’s family, forgot our solid link
My joys of motherhood, a passing fad
My husband’s stoned structure left me to think
Our fey children’s conduct thrown me mad
My starving soul and no one to blame
And my shrieked monstrous figure the same.

What’s left of him even, when he departs?
So I could arise a home with Ruth
I’m sixty-seven steps beneath my mates
And only delinquent talents I foot
Two roads are diverged in my yellow wood
Hence, will my ill-life still hold?

Choice crises cleave to my throat
I’ll await my perfect man, till the wither end
Even my love Lad disabled to plight my troth
I need Adam in me and on hand
Cometh him not, then in doubt my belief
“O God”, she sulks in deep sigh relief.

And so sorrow sang in their souls
Each dreamt of a second coming
But what will be, will be; either joy or woes
As only one creator saw the earth forming
And he hath given them this travail to be felt therewith
And they sat stolid, sleepy and silent
Like dawn watchmen, they waited to be whet.