In dreaded famish, he beckons his famulus,
'Take a brisk walk down the stream;
And buy me that delicious stimulus';
As he was starting to lose his dream.
On wind's wings he floated away;
Down the road he vanished from sight
The hungry begins to measure his way
A second's waste could hasten fright.

Galloping down the slippery road;
He steps on a plump croaking toad,
Stops a moment to mourn the dead
And wrapped it in a colourful thread.
He stuffs it in his brown leather bag
Bearing his Master's monster tag;
That little moment he's thrown awake
Fetch the meal and the Master, wake.

The hand on the wall is past his fear
His ensemble shrugs off his wrinkly skin
He hopes Chufuna is dead or near
It matters now he's not his kin.
Discomfort sunk him in a chair
Daylight hurries from the clouds
The weather he sees outside is fair;
His gentle patience fury beclouds.

The vendor serves him in a piece of cloth
Attentions whisked off by a naked thief
He stole meats from a farmer's broth
His back his whipped till its grief.
'This scene so gory,
I must tell Magacula the story'.
He bolts like a fuel tank torched,
On the desk lies the cloth untouched.

Magacula is weary
Whispers the gods to spare his life
His sight on Chufuna is bleary
But hears him mumble his walk of strife.
Thud!
He wakes his Master up. His shoes hissing mud.
He picks the bag in a careful tread
And hands him the 'meal' in a colourful thread.

jami3y: In dreaded famish, he beckons his famulus,
'Take a brisk walk down the stream;
And buy me that delicious stimulus';
As he was starting to lose his dream.
On wind's wings he floated away;
Down the road he vanished from sight
The hungry begins to measure his way
A second's waste could hasten fright.

Galloping down the slippery road;
He steps on a plump croaking toad,
Stops a moment to mourn the dead
And wrapped it in a colourful thread.
He stuffs it in his brown leather bag
Bearing his Master's monster tag;
That little moment he's thrown awake
Fetch the meal and the Master, wake.

The hand on the wall is past his fear
His ensemble shrugs off his wrinkly skin
He hopes Chufuna is dead or near
It matters now he's not his kin.
Discomfort sunk him in a chair
Daylight hurries from the clouds
The weather he sees outside is fair;
His gentle patience fury beclouds.

The vendor serves him in a piece of cloth
Attentions whisked off by a naked thief
He stole meats from a farmer's broth
His back his whipped till its grief.
'This scene so gory,
I must tell Magacula the story'.
He bolts like a fuel tank torched,
On the desk lies the cloth untouched.

Magacula is weary
Whispers the gods to spare his life
His sight on Chufuna is bleary
But hears him mumble his walk of strife.
Thud!
He wakes his Master up. His shoes hissing mud.
He picks the bag in a careful tread
And hands him the 'meal' in a colourful thread.

Really luv poems, the rhymes n lines r killing! Were u d 1 dat wrote it all? If so u r gifted.
Though I'm dizzy now, I will re-read it later in d day cos I didn't finish it.

Yea bro! I wrote them. You can visit my page at www.poemhunter.com/adegbite-adeyinka/

jami3y: Yea bro! I wrote them. You can visit my page at www.poemhunter.com/adegbite-adeyinka/

It didn't open to ur page rather it opened to d home page. I will try typing ur name on d search column over dia.

Why are people not reviewing this poem? I have seen feeble poems make front page with pages of comments. But here is a great poem dat gained little or no reviews. I think Nairalanders r grouped into some esoteric minorities that appreciate only arts or works from their cabal.

Yes. You can search for Adegbite Adeyinka. I'm not bothered about making the front page. I appreciate a few people compliment it. Thanks again bro.