For Ayo Banjo at 90, By Niyi Osundare
Nigeria, May 4 -- Seasons come, seasons go But your virtues remain steady Untouched by passing fancies
Below is a slightly amended version Of my ode to the Teacher Two remarkable decades ago..
*
Old teachers never die; They simply wax wiser with passing moons. Old teachers never die
The wine of age is winking in your glass, Sip it in style; Sip it with relish.
For when you sat in the saddle*, You never rode roughshod upon our earth. Your voice called up our depths
Your silence gingered us into song Our growing scrawls mellowed into hieroglyphs On the tender papyrus that was your palm:
(Allophones we all, of your happy phoneme) Liberal star, compassionate moon. Scion of a stock in league with Light
Let your ebony laughter unknot ou...
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