Baptism of Fire

Baptism of Fire

It was a baptism of fire

Upon a wide aisle

A glittering floor

Flippant flowers colouring the sides

Bit by bit, forward, I paced.

Yonder, sat an elegant giant

At the giant’s honour,

My father’s land was sold

Sold to win the giant’s favours

Favours of recruitment

In the awaited service.

The giant saluted me with

A bush of files

Heaps of paper,

And anthills  of books.

A four-months’ work worth

That I was to accomplish in

A fortnight.

This was my first

‘Sign of the cross.’

My predecessor had roasted

Under the same kiln

She was fair and faithful,

But her selfishness

With her body

And refusal to share with the giant

Cost her this desk.

My ushers into the service

Grew harder when I ferried

The bush-forest-shrub

To my assigned furnace,

This cave they call an office.

Other milked fellows sat sickened,

And gazed at me like gutter floor,

None helping unload my trampled head.

Quite thrilling is this service;

Three or four x-mas spells

In the consecutive pile

Of these malnourished wages

Shall my father’s lost land ever recover?
                                                         Rurekyera Geofrey