Soaring in the sky,
Swift on terra firma,
Swapping costumes in phone booths,
Sweeping the world,
Solving crises.

Invincible, immortal, son of gods,
Faster than light,
Harder than diamond,
Eyes of laser.

A green stone,
A relic from a world long gone
Pretty and shiny,
Bringing to mind emeralds,
And young leaves.

A tiny shard,
A little too close,
A flash of weakness,
And our hero falls,
Down to his knees.

For Olu, who’s so devastatingly handsome.



  1. **faints** **claps hands** Adaeze!!!….We need to talk….Erhmmm Mister Olu…**in my Italian accent** we need to take a ride to the desert…..I mean….**looking closely at the poem** This is really beautiful….I am not sure I understand it tho’….mami..**whispering** Poems and Tibs are like 1 and 7…there is always this confusion in between….hehe…


  2. *in ma thickest Okonkwo accent*( “Things Fall Apart”)
    Dearest Mz Tibz, ( according to Adaze&rightly so anyway)
    Olu can follow you inside the desert, any desert be it the Mojave, Sahara or even the Atacama or Artic. But when you return,(after the long talk) you must follow him into the creeks of the niger delta so you see also that he has people who are as fiercely protective of him as you are of your darling mami(at best), OR show you that you CAN’T take every male that your darling mami writes about for that “desert talk” (at worst)(Lee Kuan Yew woulda been on that list too if she met him)
    So do not worry about Olu-and if you insist on your desert talks,-I forsee him in a black suit with black specs driving your black S.H.I.E.L.D grade SUV into the desert, never saying a word, while you sit comfortably in the back grilling yet another one of your mami’s blog subjects…
    PS:I also hear its your monthiversary. Did you get the palm wine and kolanuts I sent?


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