FIRST TIME I WOOED A GIRL

I could still remember

The first time I wooed her

Though it was the only time

It was a year after my high school

In a period when I was idle

I sat by the gate of my place in Ikeja

Looking idly at the passing flashy cars

Till my sight began to long for her

In the midst of her friends

While returning from school

She looked like an angel

I bet she was, though she was black

But her complexion was like black gold in my site

She was a rich girl, I was a poor boy

Maybe living with my rich cousins proved otherwise

But I guess my slum demeanour sold me out

After watching her movement for days

Noting where her friends depart after their long stroll

I approached her with boldness to state my intention

Only to hear a cliché found in the then teens

“Sorry, I don’t talk to strangers.”

Now I have grown and wooed many girls

Some richer, some poorer, but mostly finer

Some, of which I knocked off on the same day

Till I retired my wooing skills

And I settled for the woman of my dreams

After gaining understanding from the vanity

But I still remember her and I mock my little folly

Come on, boy…

“How could you ever expect to woo a girl like that?”

(w) 11.04.13. 11:35-11:50Am