The jagged rocks stood on crispy heights. 
Folding on bold curves; and green shrubs. 
Farms fanning out for miles. 
With crude tools;a nation is fed. 
The azure clouds, gladly hovering like wet blanket majestical parading the skies ; 
in their white smokey delights 
Angels were sketching patterns for our merriment. Nature at its beauty and purity.

• 

My muse sits beside me; 
poised like a hoisted flag. 
Gallant and gracious without a sag. 
We pointed towards the skies; 
marveling at the wonders that stretched like the Nile. 
Time chimes gracefully and seconds ticking ; 
as the car ate up each mile.

The bus had a braky fault at Makurdi; 
and for that we came at an abrupt halt; 
ije nwere ka odi
The sun blew hotness into our eyes; 
the cozy Plateau has left our side, no blanket left to hide under . 
Hungry passengers hopped off in a rush; 
all ready to have something to crush; 
the stomach is a hungry man’s guide. 
After 45 minutes-reason later, we took to the highway; 
with a driver that makes gentle love with his car.

• 

In-between the interchanges; 
I yearned for the soft folds of my muse, 
to usher me into her Era. 
A chance to educate me; 
on the pleasures only a queen can give once in an era. 
I took a sip; from her inspiring wetness, a hive of sweetness. 
The live-factory for honey. 
My bee. 
My finger was sandwished between two folds of hot tightness. 
I felt a light headed dizziness. 
My heart was tuned to the irregualar beats; each sound a hit. 
Her core, a soft reminder of the gates of Valhalla. 
The resting place for the gods. 
My crazy princess;the mother of orgasms. 
I pray I don’t loose my wit.

• 

We switched off to different destinations and frequency ; 
but our heart stayed tuned. 
Close to me resides my muse; graciously seated like a tiger. 
My kitten. 
I’m the lucky prey. 
Her beauty is like a smile;a watts of genuine loveliness. 
I’m forever indebted in her;she gives me reasons to breathe.

Makurdi is a name of a state in Nigeria.

‘Ije nwere ka odi’- loosely means, ‘the outcome of a journey can be unpredictable’

(Traveling to the East with GIGM- God is Good Motors. I found the truth, God is indeed good and He gave me a sign. This is not a story of a near accident and such. This is pure bliss, the joy of traveling with a loved one who is as crazy as you or even more. This is about two souls finding themselves on the same path, at the back seat crusing to an Era).