ITS WHOLE CRASHING FOR THE HOLE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For a hole to hide its finger

When nobody is watching

It shuns its precious little wingers

And goes hunting in a sunny scorching

It knows it is in danger

But thinks of the warm little hole

It dreams of the finger in a manger

And desires for it with its heart in the whole

“Why will I sit in cold

When there’s heat to mend this soul?

I’ll never my finger fold

I’ll eat in the holey bowl”

And so it went chasing

For a goose whose wings were golden

It sweats with its finger burning

And limps as all beholden

 

The goose thinks of it as a novice

Who has been caught by the hole

It laughs thinking of its service

And swears to tire the mole

The goose jumps with style

It jumps in confusion

The goose slows and jumps like its on an isle

It jumps tiredly caring not about its intrusion

The kingdom watch its finger

As it bells its greedy need

And watch its small figure

Which they know the hole will never consider as feed

The goose had pity and held its finger

Broke its city messing his whole

To make sure he’ll get no more party for a winger

It flies to the dark and watches its little abandoned wingers grow big in his left hole

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014