It was a night the alabaster got nurtured full <br />In the clove; shapeless carving watchtower <br />Nerves tingling with dreads; expectations <br />Pregnant with promises, ecstasy, surrender <br />Like in the quietness and eeriness of grave <br />Lingering listening to catch every creak or crow <br />Unsure of the how, when, start, the cross-over <br />What monster or angel lay in wait in the hood? <br />Yet soon swept by an order; swiftly but silently <br />And without consciousness of act, filled out <br />To bond in the manly dance of the moonlight <br />Clout soon turned starry, merry not indignant <br />As I, the rest, hopped and skipped with puzzles <br />Till at full moon like a burst we got, all popped<br /><br />segun Johnson Ozique<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/initiation-rite/
