Under the torch of the crescent moon
On bare pants and catty eyes
Our hearts yawn for the story line
Our ears gulp saliva, hungry to hear
The tasteful recipe that ooze so sweet
Beneath the canopy of the oha tree
Crossed legs on our raffia mats
Nothing else could cross our hungry minds
That had waited all through the crawling day
Mama dare not need me now
We calmly pray
As granny opened her wrinkled lip
That proved her scanty teeth
No matter how brown they are
It never faulted her warm smile
Nor the moral message that spiced it
But gave us warmth outside the chilly breeze
She carefully told those tales with lessons
And asked her questions too
But when we knew the story was over
Was when we woke from our spring beds
