…ON A QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY (for Maureen Onochie)


This day the calendar with turn:
As you celebrate
That glorious day you were born.
...
You rouse a poem from my fingers:
It shall be a lyric,
Call me the drummers and the singers.

Bring the cows, slaughter the rams
Tap the palm trees
And dig out all the yams in the farms.

Let all come here, we shall feast
Till the break of dawn
And our noise shall reach from North to East.

Open your throats, and scream out loud,
"Happy Birthday Maureen!"
Let our voices part these floating could.
...
Daughter of the king, bride of a Lord,
I salute you
And pledge to you my poetic sword!

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