IF NOW WERE THE LAST SIGH OF THE WORLD

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Loping with brine of pristine sweat
Doting over her like love recreated with sugar sweet intent
A lore perfected by griots that attend to the poetry of God
Lore of the heart birthing poems in the supine zenith of forenoon
Pampering with feathery softness with intent to arrest the noon
A fear gripped and all presence of mind and thought deliver care
in the ghastly fear that her sigh might be the last sigh of the world.

BY OLUWAFEMI ADISA-ISIKALU

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