LONDON PEN
(For Ugonnaya)
When you offered me the London pen
You gave a farmer a diligent hoe
At a time a tailor was idle in need
You gave a needle that fetched a smile:
When you offered the timely ink, Ugo
You gave a Bible to a stranded priest
As a bricklayer keeps his bosom plum
I will handle your gift with delicate care
With a drop of its ink,
A poem shall be born
From your Monday noon gesture
A book will hit an immortal shelf.
…
But the colour of your pen scares me:
Pink as a Netherland rose,
It’s threatening a rupture in my inner self
Now I will learn to stop looking at your gift,
Since its sight brings to memory a hibiscus lost
Worse still:
It tallies with the colour of your eyes,
Your songful English
And unfathomable depth of your global mind.
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