Once upon a sower
The ancient planter they called Him
Ageless Lord of the harvest
The planter of all seasons
And so he sowed on choicy portions
At the fledging moment of the age
Planting on peculiar soils
And spreading peculiar crops
On our portion
He sowed groundnuts
Cocoa yam on another
Maize growing along side the species
Palmfronds burgeoning on wet ground
Our portion of land
Neither arid nor desert in altitude
The weather in hot and cold breeze
There the planter crossbreed the varieties
We grow maize and cocoa yam
Palm fruits shielding the orchard melons
Groundnut sheets spreading on the naked soil
Ours is a crossbreed
Vast in caste of disparate blood
On our soil
Maize cobs hobnobbing the kolanut incubation
Water yams struggling to escape the terrestrial cobweb of melon sprouts
Lest they tango in conjoined cobs
Ours is the hybrid of cotyledon
Old and new species in the scheme of germination
Turks screaming aloud against the creeping pythons
All in feudal stronghold
Our breed
A conscious design of the middle age
Fiefdom spiders in diligent operation
Cobwebbing the border gate with feudal aprons
Not in the years of slave trade
But we are made spies on our huts
We cross examine our kin before fiefdom chiefs
We concoct stories upon ourselves
We are made to genuflect towards our fellows
We rage at our brothers in stubborn posture
In the full glare of the ancestors
We engage foul witness against our spokesman
In our bid to gain feudal laurels
And run errand in the fiefdom enclave
We are crossbred for their pleasure
Alien farts in purdah sanctuary
They are famous for their hibernation creed
Tigers in constant daylight raid of goats' dungeon
Shameless caravans pilfering their customer's wares
It is the merchandise waiver of the fugitive breed
In no distance season
The ancient planter shall separate the weed from the wheat
Kolanuts for their gum
Cocoa yam for our brain
Their melons polluted by snarling flies from cow dung
Causing them stomach upset
The ancient planter shall relegate their pharisee
And purge the sacheus of the inflated taxes
And we shall at this ripe season
With the roasted cow hung
Whet our canine and relieve our tongue
With tasty fried beef
Cows slaughtered in multitude for their ransom
When their Shepherds shall havd been hounded
