Beautiful Black Nights of my Childhood

Beautiful black nights of my childhood

Where retiring weavers fill the quiet

With occasional soft chirps that make eerie harmony with the cricket’s song

And the fireflies fly and flutter by

Making a collage of beautiful fires against the naked night

We gather around her, she whose crown is white and gray

And we listen to the tales of her childhood

Our laughter echoes through the beautiful black African night

Our hands on our smooth black chins

And eager heads drawn closer and closer

To the black nights of her childhood

Till leopard eyes light their fires

Beckoning us who are unafraid to let the rulers of this black night live

So we retire to our beds

Blessed by the one whose crown is white and gray

Whose peace is a blanket over our innocent caramel bodies.

I long for you,

Ebony nights of my childhood

I long for hyena laughs

And I long for the village drunkard’s song

I long for the tales around neighbourhood fires

And night laughter under God’s light

I long for African nights of my childhood.