I heard footsteps approaching, and two knocks on my door.
I thought it was Oluchi, an angel recreated in human form.
I opened with curiosity to behold my priceless gem.
Stretching my hands to her waist, I felt the thick darkness in my palms.
“Who's there?”
A cool breeze greeted me, leaving the dazzling moon to gaze at me.
Is it my grandmother's mmuo?
My Chi whispered, “it is Ogbunabali”.
My heart danced to the beating of ogidi.
My thoughts flew faster than an air plane.
Maybe he saw when I came out of Oluchi’s hut.
No! When I hugged Chukwudi’s wife.
Ogbunabali, prince of the night, carrier of death.
Please spare my life; a kingsman, my wife and my farmland are all I have.
Then came another piercing knock, when I opened,
I saw a figure, like an Iroko tree,
his roundish head with a torch on it,
a goat skin bag and a gun hanged across his shoulder.
“Ebuka, are you not coming for a hunt tonight?”
Ah!! My thoughts and my game.
Wait till after the sunsets
When pink and Amber blaze,
Wait for the moons distant light
Whom signifies the days,
Wait for loves fair kingdom
When kingsman play their part
Where longings of restitution
Console the very heart,
How might I describe love
As such,
for any other forms of a lover
Meets between the distant dark,
somwhere Undercover,
As for light behold such love
Somewhere in the days between,
For the glory of His loving heart,
The Kingsman finds his queen.
Kingsman
Is a good
Flick and
I’m patiently
Waiting for
A sequel and more
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.