Village boy Impressions

                                                                                                                                                                                 35 th January 2022 His Royal Miserliness, First Born of the Gregorian Calendar  Slow Motion Avenue Three Hundred & Sixty-Five One-Quarter Days. Dear January,  Last week, I wrote you a very long disturbing letter in which I chided you for your yearly niggardly attitude and wanton display of sluggish disdain for the dignity of labour and the golden rule not to mete out what you cannot countenance in others.   It seems nearly everyone has lost something since you came up: students cannot find their school fees, tenants are owing rent, housewives have misplaced the chop-money they were given in December, pubs have lost customers, a couple of drunks have lost their front teeth, the few virgins we have, have broken their vessels of honour and not a few ladies are missing periods.  As if that was not enough, many m

It was a beauteous night, dusty and cold  And we were all mum and droopy  Whilst the preacher droned on  And the rest of the world lived on  An expectant harmattan swirled around  As stemmed waters must feel bound  Yet gyrating as one tickled in erogenous places  On and on and on towards the climax  The cold outside threatened to come in  And we held our sweaters to ourselves  As we gazed at the clock ahead  Inching ever closer to the new year  Suddenly everyone’s tongue was loosed Everyone’s voice was lifted in praise And sang in generous grateful tones As we leapt in joyous ecstasy Turning round and about  We embraced and hugged and waved And with beamish smiles Hailed each in greeting..." Bein paali !*" Life and beauty poured out as at sunrise And my secret heart glowed with love And gratitude for life, family, friends Oh that the singing would never end! 17th January 2019 Accra. *Bein paali - Happy New year! You can also find this poem and other poe