Monday, July 26, 2010


FRAGRANCE It’s the fragrance, mother; The intoxicating crispy fragrance Of coloured mint coinage. Sometimes the shimmering glitter Of gold or silver. It matters not mother What figures are imprinted on, Just the fragrance! The fragrance that drives me To plunder my core, To pillage my country to nothing, Squandering it to desolation. The fragrance that devours me And sparks hunger pangs, Coercing me to crave and covet theirs Staining my hands with blood It’s the fragrance mother; The musky musty odor Of old and used notes, Sometimes the dull hue of coinage That quenches my thirst and ardor! It matters not mother What figures are imprinted on Just the fragrance mother Just the fragrance. This poem was written by Regina Asinde who emerged second in the BN Poetry Award 2010. She won 150 USD, an autographed book of How to Save Money for Investment by Ken Monyoncho and an autographed poetry collection.

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