Anecdote Of The Gypsies Poem by Folayemi Akande

The macadam, a path broad and thorny,
Macerate skins worn and damn,
Through cloudless clime where fierce and corny,
They rise wearing somber pasty face,
Yet, in lumber somnambulist pace.
Drinking from gourd of oscillate hostility,
With lags hovering in the distance,
Surveyed from yonder of captivity.
An artful grin of grace,
Lassitude steeped by a soul sound so bear,
Yet, the whirling mote indignant cloud not in the rear.
The sassy pedantic sun,
An epitome of fashionable skin burn,
The ephemeral of age,
Succeeding with rage,
What a radical euphemism to tango with ignorance,
No euphoria still, to reckon such exuberance.