THE NIGHT OWL

a poem by Oredola Olamilekan Ibrahim, Nigeria

THE NIGHT OWL

There he comes again
I can hear him well.
Yes! I can hear his walking step
As he tread past my window
In the very mid of Night 5
I can hear his whistling
Breaking the silence of the Night.

Will any one tell me where he come s.
Perhaps some parties, inebriated
From the blossom of women in brothel 10
Or from a lover to be wed;
From an occult cult in the midnight wood
Rather part of gentlemen on the highway lay
Or some trudging oddity to way of life
Determined search of a sleeping lost? 15
Oh! Some transcendental views of life
Whatever be the case of his walking late
At such smaller hours of the opening day
But must he walk by my windows side
For I always hear his walking step; 20
Be it a man or a woman I do not know
Or both conceal I cannot throw
A hunter, cultist or something of such
A drunker or ghost out of purgatory

But I always hear the steps 25
As he tread past my windows
In the very mid of night
I can hear his howling whistle
Breaking the silence of the night.

HERE MY BODY COMES
PASSIONATE VERSES
Words To J.E FLECKER

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