The Guest House was where I stayed on my travel to India.
it is sunday and everything remains the same
like it was yesterday
I sit on the verandah of Yatri's Guest House
and listen to the birds sing
No church bells toll at this time
but I hear some hymns
sounding beyond the house I stay
the sun smiles at me and I smile back
wanting to know why she is smiling
but she keeps smiling
asking me if today is sunday
I giggle a little and ask her to go
because she is making me laugh
she comes near, tickle me
as if I am a little child
Poetry by Onyeka Nwelue
Read 586 times
Written on 2006-04-18 at 17:32
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Sunday Morning in India
it is sunday and everything remains the same
like it was yesterday
I sit on the verandah of Yatri's Guest House
and listen to the birds sing
No church bells toll at this time
but I hear some hymns
sounding beyond the house I stay
the sun smiles at me and I smile back
wanting to know why she is smiling
but she keeps smiling
asking me if today is sunday
I giggle a little and ask her to go
because she is making me laugh
she comes near, tickle me
as if I am a little child
Poetry by Onyeka Nwelue
Read 586 times
Written on 2006-04-18 at 17:32
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
