Gone Till October Poem by Tobi Adebowale

The frenzy of wriggling old waists
The frenetic swerve of nubile dancers
In daring contests
With stunning acrobatic manoeuvres
Of brawny village studs
Cheered on
By the guttural voices of kinsmen
And the entrancing beats
Of sacred traditional drums.
Even the dead reappear
Decked in variegated costumes
Bellowing guttural chants
Of messages from ancestors
While they shuffle clothe-shod feet
To the beats of sacred drums
Those are the sights and sounds
That gladden our hearts
In ways we cannot logically tell
But for a while
The inexplicable symphony
Of these diverse spectacles
Will cease for a while
And return
Riding on wind’s wing
When in October
Our king takes his next wife.