Early morning trips to the stream
Stack naked under mama's wrapper
With unrivalled joy and boisterousness
We make our way down to the stream
Whatever it was that could be hiding
We never cared, maybe there was none
We always make the journey
to and fro unscathed
And when it was time to eat
We can go to the next-door neighbour without being scolded
Nor does the wife next door get tagged a witch
We were allowed to go to the market square
With the other kids late at night
Without the fear of being kidnapped or killed
Until we all get called home
Looking back,
These stories feel like myths and legends
And I wonder where
our safe abode disappeared to...
Thank you for your time.
My pen doesn't bleed, it speaks, with speed and ease.
Still me,
My tongue is like the pen of a ready writer.
Olawalium; (Love's chemical content, in human form). Take a dose today: doctor's order.
