Olalekan Ololade Sobande Poems

The year is withering; the wind blows down the leaves.
Men stand under eaves,
While waiting for the coming of a new baby,
There your joyous father once stood;
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The broken bones cannot be made whole!
The master of the house cracked his whip.
The gods, it is only the gods who know why the bones were broken.
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I have dipped three fingers,
Three fingers of my right hand;
Thumb finger, fore finger and middle finger.
I have held my three fingers to the winds,
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I will Pronounce Your Name to Omolola (My pink lady)
By Sobande Olalekan Ololade.S
Remember the Christmas
When on our way from Lagos
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O FUNAAB, possessor of a savings basket full of money
O FUNAAB, enfolded by honour.
Today in FUNAAB by tacit agreement
They will sing just one FUNAAB’s anthem
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Abeokuta South
A colossus, amongst
That stands
And raises his head high
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Look!
Look out there in the bucket,
The rusty bucket with unclean water.
I don't know why rain refuse to fall in Abeokuta.
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Sunday
What a happy Sunday!
The crowding stony faces of my fellows make me afraid.
Let my mind turn to my God!
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From the west
Sun comes hurrying with the heat
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She came in silken drapes,
And naked breasts
It seems the world has changed her garment
But it is I who has not crossed the fenced.
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