The Tomato's Tale

And today I met this round twins and sumptuous looking tomato fruit

By the side of the garden the plant grew, I haven’t noticed it till now

1.

Hanging down from her stalk hopelessly like her weight was the plants burden

Where the ants made an abode, in and out they traversed without care

And hers was red with the suns anger and she seemed quite unperturbed

I looked at her again, she bounced about, shy, with the winds push

A huge fly buzzed about her loudly, deafening even I that stood a bit far off

She stared back at me, blushing with the winds unwelcomed surge, I shrugged

‘Well, hello little man. You have seen me much. To what do I owe your gazing?’

‘I am a passerby, I happened to catch your unusual color against the greenery’

‘Oh thank you, I was aware I wasn’t a museum the last time I checked that was why’

She was disturbed on my presence, it was uninviting, I would feel same too

‘Toh, your beauty has kept me dumbfounded, forgive me fair tomato fruit, 

‘I haven’t found one who combined both grace and grass to such perfectionism’ I said

With a wave of the leaves, the tomato plant seemed to dance or accepted my plea

2.

And now if I let myself ponder on the life of this fellow, how lonely it seemed-

Fulfilling though, she was sitted on good clay, and the wind was her tryst anchor

Yet, I came to learn about this plant, her benevolence to her neighbors

Her humility and perseverance in the stubborn winds and noisy intruders, 

Her patience in the sun, the embarrassing ways psssersby stare at her nakedness

And the refuge she provided to others, to the bees, ants and we who find her a delicacy

This tomato had made me fall in love, not just with my heart, but with my stomach too… 

Our Environment and Writing

Today I will talk briefly on a topic that is not common. Uncommon in a such sense that its significance might be under-estimated. As we all know, poems are written all over the world, in many languages and from different geographical locations. Many times, ones physical environment dictates the tone and mood one writes. For instance, writing from the cold Kilimanjaro range and from Niamey in the hot Sahara, the poet tends to be affected by his natural environment. He might probably write 'hastily and short' in an uncomfortable place and likely feel relaxed and wanting to make a 'unrushed' work in such places that are naturally welcoming and inspiring. Consider writing a poem in a close door room with little ventilation and some tables with cups and writing in an open air, with a table overlooking vast fields of Golden wheat and hawks hovering up a blue sky... Our environment plays a great role in our reasoning and feelings which in turn comes down to our writing(s). So being mindful of ones physical environment helps one in improving writing efficiency.

Writing

What football is to the legs, pen is to the fingers. With the above sentence I open my discussion on writing. Writing has been a part of the human race which had grown into many parts with time and changing climes and personalities. It is an important sphere that revolves on the existence of human kind. Commonly, writing is not just penning thoughts on paper but includes inscriptions on walls, rocks, caves and even on beach sands! It has been a subject that all human being must see in one form or the other; if one cant write atleast one can read what others wrote. It is important to note also that writing and its 'associates' occurs daily on the lifes of individuals. These occurances also come in form radio and TV ads and shows, bills given on bank ATM and fast-food stands. The effects of writing are numerous, it is the easiest way to pass across ones feelings romantically, critically, indifferently, etc. The importance of writing cannot be overemphasized. It has always been a human character from time immemorial and a major contributor to literacy and mass communication.