Truly men are all these;
Gamine and very equal.
Same flock, like geese;
Gracile, fat, low or tall.
Man envies other fauna’s
So ordered chauvinism;
Governing sexes’ manners,
Which he lost to pessimism.
His most domesticated flora
Flowers in care and abuses,
Beyond its feminine aura;
Winning just as he looses.
The good old Goose
Lost her lone Gander.
Proudless of her loss,
Matured beyond order.
Living with only them,
By the hedges they grew.
For that edge over them,
He still says, ‘Grâce â Dieu!’
Good for the goose
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I get so excited each time i read your poems and posts. I feel we are living Ngo’s dreams. If she had the formal education, she’d have been a great writer/ story teller.
Thanks dear…. You know, you guys are lucky to have heard Ngo’s stories, I wasn’t. I’ve heard she tells or told the coolest stories but I never heard them.
She still tells amazing stories. Make sure you get her going when next you visit Jos. She’ll usually draw maps on the ground as she illustrates how we’re related to someone from the city. Her stories touched on everything from when she first met grandpa, how she loved to Jos and hose stylish she used to be. She especially liked telling stories of how many sacrifices she made for Aunty Martha and my dad. She has great stories of her trips as a market woman! She’s a walking/living encyclopedia.
Hmmmm… I guess that has always been the problem, Me staying put to hear her!! LOL
I had to read this a few times over to understand it. Intricate.
Hope you liked it? Thanks for commenting
I do.
Glad you do…Thank bro