JUST MUSE

EVER HAD A QUIET PLACE?

I was in a tranquil pasture.
This spread of interlocked hills and valleys
lawned by mob of acute turfs
and liquefied with troughs of crab waters
and inlets of estuary,
flowing cross lengths of her cardinals.
This day, it assuage
me.

Her first bait,
The silence that silenced the civil noise seated next to her,
is the pleasing panacea to my aged rage.
And her inn,
where indwells all that is green,
Is the haven moderately isolated by nature's intent.


How the towering palms
with her inviting fronds,
conference with gay bananas in this theatre,
where citrus flings flaps to delonix.
Nonchalantly, making stairs and shades for climbing arachnids,
and subtly dropping disperse on the insecti
at the soles of their shoots.


I, bemused by this confederacy underneath sun,
could only but for a while,
agaze the flight of Adonis blue to red roses,
and the mischievous sprint of Agamas.
For this my season is a-running
and I shall not daily on this voyage be.
Howbeit, as this sight and scent placate,
and her breeze blows my brain abright,
I shall seal this sensation.


When I vamoose from this utopian spread
to the civic desk again,
shall this serenade now so still?
I shall seal this sensation.

I shall,
with my ink on this scroll capture this Jove's sense.
That I may recapture the soothing I'm given in THE GARDEN.
(A lonely day underneath the leaves of Fashoranti Park)

                                                              AYODELE AYANFE

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