Multiple genres, gathered,
Crascento, of some sort,
As the sun sunk West,
And darkness threw its chest,
Behest,
The woodey chest.
Then the, the Crested Cranes,
Craning thier necks,
Ululating,
In unison,
Tuu tuu tuu tuu,
Like Ntuha Ntuha Ntuha,
So were named after,
Thier melodic renditions..
The frogs joined albiet late,
Hoarse voices, tugooga tugooga tugooga,
As though starved from taking a bath,
They gathered in ponds,
In trenches, in holes,
Of this woodey valley,
Reminiscent of Karyeeza valley,
Where, Nkweita Na Mbeta,
Succumbed to death,
While freeing to save thier breath,
Amins’ wreath of wrath..
A few of the long-winged , yellow bats,
Begun to loitre,
The dark forest skies,
Like drones,
The forest drones,
In full view and target of thier prey..
Never sang any way,
But they enjoyed,
According to thier dance,
Long wings, spread apart,
They swang and swammed to the song,
Like Kafiti,
The village wag..
This, again was the piano,
Combo,
