By:
K.V Fofana
When
the birds have nested
When
the traffic sleeps
When
no one remembers to dial
For
they are all, probably asleep
That’s
the hour I crave
When
the wind serenade my ears
When
ideas overflow like the edge of the Kpatawee Waterfall
When
I’m lost in the wilderness of ideas,
For
only an empty body frame sits still
That’s
the hour I crave
The
hour when the romance begins
When
the pen kisses the sheet,
Plain
and untouched, ready for the affairs
When
it’s only pen and sheet,
Kisses
and hugs; purely in love
That’s
the hour I crave
Ha!
Now the intensity,
The
friction-
When
a fight between thoughts ensue
The
fight for when to appear
The
fight for what to appear, what to be omitted or retain
That’s
the hour I crave
When
the pen must obey
And
the sheet must bear the consequences
With
scratches and scars
When
the convincing thoughts win
That’s
the love affairs of writers’ romantic hour
The
hour I crave