Nigerian Nymphet

 It was a morning sultry and sullen,

When I came down for a walk.

I hadn't slept well and my eyes hurt

My feet dragged and lacked the sprint.

I forced myself to quicken my pace

Blinked my eyes to clear the haze

I yawned and gazed around .

Something caught my eye:

A few yards away to the the right

Lay a banana grove 

Next to a cluster of huts

On a lush grassy patch

Glistening with dew droplets.

On the wet grass there, stood

A girl, four or five years old;

Looking like a doll carved in ebony.

Bare, but for the beads ,woven into numerous braids on her head.

Her profile etched eerily against

The dull Nigerian horizon.

Then all of a sudden, as if

Someone Pressed a button

This doll began to sway

To the tune of a distant strain

Fascinated I stopped not willing to move.

Watching, as her dance progressed gathering momentum.

She swayed and swayed

Faster and faster

Swinging her tiny hips

Lost in herself, gyrating and clapping

Clapping back and forth;

Moving along the melody of the song.

And then, as if on cue

Broke out cool breeze ,cleaving clouds 

To let in , first rays of the sun

Filtering through the rustling leaves.

Mesmerized I gazed on

Glued up to the spot

With the magic of her movements

Symbolizing the spirit of Africa.

It was a moment of celestial gaiety 

and profound ecstasy.

My spirit soared aloft

On the wings of that little nymphet.

The world had transformed

Imbued with a heavenly hue

My face lit up, my legs flew

And I walked on

With a song in my heart.