The Old Tortie

|published. January. 12.l,2019 |7:25



The Old Tortie

By Ikenna Ozulumba Mbaegbu




Instinct thy guardian Angel
Instinct of survival
Adorned in many colours.
Behold, the old Tortie
Old as the game,
Always the same.


Slow in move;
Careful to choose
The old Tortie,
The wise a creature.


Thy shell,
Thy safe house
Like a hole of a mouse
And when danger knocks,
Calls thee home,
And there in
Shall thee remain
Till safe the ground
Till peace abound
Then resume thee
Thy unending journey.


Many qualms prevail thy way
Struggling to push thee astray,
Many issues to smartly trash,
Many worries to strongly smash,
The old Tortie must survive,
Always the same
Same as the game.


Sure, thy absence from stage,
As thou embark on this pilgrimage,
The very quest to clear thy head,
Sure, will create fear
If not mass hysteria
As friends shall be drawn to tears,
As enemies, shall in victory dance
As frenemies shall askance
Look thee
And ever ready
To spread the gospel,
The very gospel
Of the old Tortie's misfortune.


But Trust Old Tortie
His survival, the nature's gift,
His absence, a mere shift
To gather more wisdom,
To gather more  Knowledge
And to again emerge
In another form.

Edited & Published by IPOB WRITERS PRESS
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