Under the umbrella

I'm under the umbrella tree
hoping the marabou stock won't flee
off the ground and hop onto my hope,
shake the soaked leaves atop,
and drench me in drips and drops-
that delve in my emotions shop
and leave me milquetoast.

Kaloli diri tuuma,
kaloli diri tuuma.
Diri tuuma meh da wuuba,
dah wubah meh da buluka...

'Cause the thunder is alarming,
as if warning of tragedies coming,
yet I have no ark to embark-
to steer me past lightning,
that "oh my days" is frightening!

Its has started raining,
my hair has droplets,
the leaves are glossy,
bark is bathed,
and I anew; hopeful...

Life has been hopeless
or precisely deciduous
and like leaves on trees,
people always leave
after storming a heart.

Ayeh as we grow and mature,
we realise that moments-
lived and left are courses;
points for one to learn
to turn over a new leaf...

Often under umbrellas,
we hide and confide our-
buffaloberry emotions;
sweet delicacies feasted on
by tragic memories,

that prey and scavenge,
on our decaying matters-
like marabou stock,
watching out on tree tops
for what's left of once fresh delicacy.

I'm under the umbrella tree,
hoping the marabou stock won't flee
off the ground and hop onto my hope,
shake the soaked leaves on top
and drench me in drips and drops
that delve in my emotions shop
and leave me milquetoast.

Kaloli diri tuuma,
kaloli diri tuuma.
diri tuuma meh  da wubah
dah wubah meh  da buluka...

It is now drizzling,
and like a sinking boat-
my shoes are soaked.
Roads now have gullies,
and drizzles drip and drop...

Love, life, family,
friends, and businesses-
are all like rain...
they come and go,
and Leave us soaked like leaves.

Soaked in emotions
and when shook by scavengers
our memories are re-lived,
sometimes in tears,
and drip drop they flop
like leaves shook
by marabou stock
after rains stop..