THAT FLOURISHING ‘PALM TREE.’
And she stood in all her glory.Her skin; rough.Dangerously beautiful.And her height inherited from her ancestors.Very common.
Yet always captivating.Popularly known for her fresh wine.Good delicacies.And her ever nutritious oil.Used in every home.Yet her price keeps increasing.And sometimes decreasing.But always constant.Her roots rigid.
Body always relaxed.With her ever swaying hands.Indulging that fresh air never found in an air conditioner.From her swaying hands down to her rigid roots.Always useful.
From her juicy fruits down to her relaxed body.Always delicious.From her costly price down to her cheap price.Always constant.With her hands I make my broom.Her fruit, I make my oil.My cream.
And ‘that African delicacy’.Her body, I make that juicy wine.And my edible mushroom.And in all her glory, I make my money.Finally, she calls herself;THAT FLOURISHING ‘PALM TREE.’©Nma Ewere.
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