Otega A Poems

Maker of love,
May the prayers I offered thee be nulled.
For I am sorely wronged
By the damsel
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Nigeria! Nigeria! !
The home of whirl and gentle winds,
The place of birth of great rivers and oceans,
The land of nurtured fathers and mothers,
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Life is but a curse
From which we should seek shelter.
It saddles us all nights and days
With millions of worries and fears
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Use a thousand and one words
In the adoration of her beauty.
But the replication of her reflection will be
peripheral in the light of her true grace.
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Fascinating! Beautiful! gorgeous!
And like words, rings in your head
When you picture the way it plays
Gently and passionately on her face.
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I hear it!
O yes, I hear you!
The magic of her voice cries again!
Rising and falling in pitch
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There is but one for whom I’m startled
From the start, the starter made it so.
Be it the winds would go wild and whirl,
That the trees would bend, twine and twirl,
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It’s a tale
Tailored for the hearing of
the narrow minded.
I buy no meaning from its lines
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Beauty has many names.
In the year of our lord 1954,
It came to My Lord in the letters, Lady Katherine E.A.
The dauntless beauty, made by its maker
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Thus sayeth Milady
Thus sayeth her that seateth on d throne of ivory
Queen over great treasures; Queen over the land foreseen
"Let it be mine the greatest & pricest of thy heart;
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