We had planned to go to Muko,
The entire year, the party was announced,
Practising our strokes while herding cattle,
Some boys, like Tinka unleashing cow dance,
While Ndyamba, the boy with a big head,
Played around with his legs like a mantis..
His head, often moving in conflict,
With the rest of his body,
Making him funny beyond fun…
There was this boy Gakyaaro,
Son of Katitiri,
Mutoto Wangu,
Whose eyes sparkled in the dark,
As he hooped like a rabbit,
Or rather Kangaroo,
From one side to the other,
Winking at people,
Like a night dancer,
In the middle of the night,
In the dry season,
When the banana leaves are dry,
And plenty,
Making music of the gladiatic play..
Rather display…
There was Kamujene, grandson,
Of Kasimoni,
Who drunk himself silly,
Sealing his night in the valley,
Till the next day..
One night, he spent a night in a Village Shallow well,
All was not well…
His bow legs,
Needed no leggings!
Then that night, came,
The boy with sweet pepsi and bubble gum,
Doubled his price,
And there was no more coupled dance,
Blowing the only chance,
On that day,
Of this village dance
