Saturday, March 22, 2014

Old Warriors and Pretty Young Wives - Pt 3

Murder

At night, with stealth, he crossed town bounds
Unseen by sentries, late lovers or hounds
When he reached the marked homestead
The time was still and eerie-dead

He could not see into the court
Nor could he starboard or port
But a fire was blazing high
Adwoa must be cooking nigh

Movement crossed his vision near
And he drew his trusted spear
And Adwoa took her big, broad fan
Thus unfolded love's cruel plan

Her fanning had a meaning 

That her husband was serening

In his corner lazy chair 

The spear struck, his head split like a pear


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