Beneath the subtle whisper
of morning coolness,
I hear the rising crescendo
of the harmattan wind.
It howled softly, curling its tongue
ready for harshness,
and spreading dusty ashy speckles
on foreheads of early risers.
Ears feared to hear its reiterated anger
from past hurt,
Lips suffered chapped blows
for telling their story
of the harmattan’s treachery
on a Wednesday.



About neofloetry

I am a lover of the real things of life and love. An actress, Playwright, Poetess and a lover of Hip Hop. I do not compromise my happiness for any negative thing and i am human. I just love to scribble down my thoughts, no matter the topic... I make mistakes! Welcome to my blog page.

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