Written by: Ikenna Igwe


Darling, yet another day is past gone,

While we rest from the battle; losing not just one.

As the wind of pain blows round our camp,

Affixing to many hearts its bleeding stamp,

I sit, on the warm sand, gazing at the moonlight,

With thoughts glued just on you, my sunlight;

The only object that holds my sanity
In this jungle of blown absurdity.

I gladly call to mind our parting act,

Drenched in showers of the passionate art.

I long, unbridled, for your charming form –

A comfy shelter from this storm.
Till we meet again, after this dreadful tour,

This is from me to you, my lovely Eleanor.

(c) Ikenna.C.Igwe, 2012