#THE_POET_AND_HIS_PEN
Across Nworie River on a beautiful Saturday's eve,
Stood I to mope at Nature's sculpturing hands
I watched from a storey's balcony-heights
To gape at such a pleasant sight:
The clouds formed apes in the atmosphere,
But my Pen said "nay 'twas a man."
I watched the shimmer the fading evening sun gave
Upon Nworie and it's rippling waves
But when I glanced again at the cloudy man,
I saw a spear had pierced his eyes
And then said I to my speechless Pen;
"Behold! your hero has gone blind."
The vexed Pen chose to 'venge itself;
Rebellious upon my scribbling plate
She made naughty errors upon errors
Until I could write no more