Ruqayyah A. Aderibigbe
I’m sitting under this tree, where I weave the shackles of my misery into beautiful serenity & the
birds of good tidings strum along with colorful melodies, with the soft tone of the wind speaking soothingly to my soul.
the leaves wrap me up in a placid embrace & lick up all my worries, and my lips curve first in a
long time to a dancing of sweet chuckles from my throat to the naughty whispers of the wind.
My head unfolds onto the lap of the tree, and the branches caress my back to a peaceful slumber.
Here, I pen my frustrations on the bark of the tree & it washed away with the rain.
This is a girl’s second home where her regalia of pain is adorned with about abounding ease.