The dawn of harmattan
A season of blistered lips
In this season,
I hate to smile so wide.
To avoid a tear of the lips
Dry scathed lips
Laughing itself, has become
A dreadful act
Suicidal in fact.
In this season,
Of dusty red hair,
Callused palms
Torn heels
And black now brown shoes
yawning for a wipe,
I hate to dress so smashingly.
In this season
Of vaselines and lipglosses
When the wind is heralded
By a tornado of dust
I hate to walk on that street
Where I once admired tree petals.
In this season, my dear, I
Make no jokes,
Truncate my laughter,
And smile shyly
In the timidly fashion of a new wife.
In this season
Of cattarh and cold,
I hate to fall sick.
Thick brown phlegm
Coughed out of dusty dry lungs.
This is a season
Of fallen leaves.
Dry shriveled petals
Of those once blossoming flamboyants
I run my tongue on my lips
To avoid same fate as the poor petals
And this loveless soil,
Gets hardened and sapped
Of all liquid within.
But, in this season of dryness,
I love to do laundry.
The clothes dry with the speed of Flash
And grasses that once sashayed
In the courtyard
Need not be mowed anymore
Because they are dead!
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its really bad in winter :(
Yea. Here, harmattan is difficult to contend with.
WOW, I love the way you represent it and explained it beautifully.
Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Good to see you back.
Thank you so much dear. Good to see you too.
I look forward to seeing your posts.
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STOPThis season comes with lots of advantages and disadvantages. Well I don't have cracked lips though but I love the fact that cloths dry with speed of light like you rightly put.
Lol. Thanks. The laundry part is just awesome.