Of lovers’ hands tightly locked
On to each other they cling
Spouse’s hair tenderly stroked
The hand a facsimile of a wing
Towards the sunset they walk
A block they are, an item; a thing
But are in for a big shock
A pipe dream in the offing
A Soap- less opera it is…
Divergent visions each bare
'bout friendship and true love
Vowing solemnly always to be a pair
Swearing upon the sky up above
Yet when goodbye kisses they blow
And at the corner they disappear
Part time lovers suddenly bellow
Running obliviously to endear
A Soap-less opera this is...
By Clifford B. Okumu
