Village boy Impressions

  I laugh at the day, however it turns out. And at the night, dark or starry I count as joy! I laugh in the morning sunlight laugh at the fierce noon day sun, the fading light of dusk, The sparkling moonlight, and the twinkling stars at night. I laugh to see the egrets, Flying overhead, destined for I know not where. I laugh at the ants, Who stole bits of my food Into their hidden cove At the foot of my wall. I laugh at the wind, Even the mighty Harmattan,  When it comes desiccating all. I laugh at the trees, The grass, and the shrubs, Even the thorns and thistles. I laugh at the rain; Hailstones,  when they come pelting. And thunderstorms,  when they come, tearing all in their path.   I laugh to see my feet Drenched in the dawn dew And the tender shoots in the fields Trembling in the morning breeze. I laugh to see the maize, the millet And the sorghum in bloom, As the birds, and the bees humming from flower to flower,  fertilizes them. I laugh to see the ripened crop All ready fo

                                                                                                                                                                                 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