When We Are Old Poem by Alade Abayomi Idris

When we are old
The key to every door we hope we hold
Success story of many episodes be told
On agbantara as the hours unfold.

When we are old
The wrinkle face of my wife I'll look
And tell her to look mine
Together we will laugh at the follies of time and ironies of life.

Every morning, we will play music
Of cautions, perseverance, hardwork, love and hope
And see our children dance to it
We will tell them how alara survived hardships
And how ajero made it
Like the mother eagle
We will take our children high high in the blue sky
And leave them unsupported
That they might fly with their own wings
To cover grounds we didn't
And rule in places we dreamt of
We want kings not flagbearers in our family.

Under the tall tree where gale tales
On our favourite agbantaras we will sit at noon
And watch our children's children
Play boju-boju game
We will remember our childhood days
And the untarred village roads we ran bare footed on to buy kulikuli.

When the gloom is settling
My wife and I will busy our old frail bodies
Amble round the neighbourhoods
With our hands chained together
That the young lovers be jealous.

Every night we will thank God
We will sing his praises
And hold each other's hands
For it might be our last hold
Last time we will see each other sleep
And if God's favour we see and hear the cockrel croo to announce a new day
We will sing praises
And live again the way I have earlier said.