New Yam Festival Poem by Tony Adah

New Yam Festival



I am smelling
The reeks of some
Sumptious dishes
Ahead of time
New yams are breathing
From man-made mounds
Grunting like pigs
Snoring like drunks.
Our
appetite taller than us
Wheating to relish melon cakes
Gulp lumps of new pounded yam
With the sweet bitterleaf soup
And sip the holy water
Oozing from palm trees.
Everyone is salivating
Preparations enormous
Hopes are high
The harvest is bumptious
We dish out our thanksgiving
To our gods for this season
And our supplication for the next.
The yam is black, yellow and white
We thank the gods
For the benevolence of the earth
Our half little cuts
Have been made whole
Let hunger drop down
Like our stools of yesterday's
Stuffs we stuffed in our tummies
We eat the new yam
And say no to the old species.
Let hunger drop down
For the little things
We hid in the stomach of the earth
Have been made whole
Children rise
Men and women rise
Rise all folks
Let us pay obeissance
To the gods
And welcome the
Bounty of the earth.
We owe a great deal
To the old yams
But we adore our new yams
Let hunger too drop down
And adore the new yam.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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