If Only My Grandmother a Man

If my grandmother was a man, She could have been the Goliath of the East Her barns of yam could have been the largest In the community with her tubers as tall as The Iroko tree- the king tree of the forest. If my grandmother was a man, She could have dance like king David She could have dream like Joseph, If my grandmother was a man, many Beautiful undefiled women could have gone mad For the sake of his love glowing preciously. If my grandmother was a man, She could have been mourned like the mourning Of an only son in Nkporo land by the Professional Mourners in a row call to savor their voices of gold To her corpse. If she was a man, She could have lived a life withou limits, go to the heaven where men dreaded to be crown. Yesteryears, no lady in Nkporoland could stand her When she danced, the sand went up in saluatation, Her legs were made of golden jelweries and her Voice was honey to the ears of the hearer. The stars were here friend as a woman, The moon, her cup bearer and the air; Bears her hairs in an unquestionable manner. In the morning, the birds sings for her Picking at her hair in goodness. I wish she was a man, she could have been a Aman in a thousand men.