Tilled the earth

Nomads with a fat goad

Set off the harvest

But the cock never crowed

They stayed boned up

What more could they digest?

Scholars, fitted to the turn-ups

But the stage was never set

Alas, the youngling espied his zeal

Worked his fingers to the bone

Gaiety, his holy grail

But the sun never rose

A boy walking her trails

A girl after his heart

Lovers in wait

But the time was never right

                                                                                                                                - Tobi Nifesi