The angry sea at kuramo beach

On lazy days we used to sit and watch
The sunset painting the blue sky pink
Silhouetted against the fast fading even times
As the windswept coast fret and fume
Like the breast of a widow

Splashing on strands of quicksilver sand
That separates Lake Kuramo by a narrow margin
The brackish seawater enter the land
Making it swampy and water logged


Miscreants and beach prostitutes gamble galore
And teenagers mostly weekend picnickers
Half dressed half naked undaunted by curious on lookers
Unashamedly rock the immoral tunes
From the echoes of some depraved band boys


But when the gods went agnostic
The tides storm tossed the land
Like salt water cowboy
After a long period of anomie


The Mamiwata; the old woman of the sea
Emptied a reservoir of blood to the museum
With a mystic mark on their ancient homestead.
Because the shrine of their royal ancestors was despoiled
By the market messengers of a zenith tempest