Oko

You will alos do it,
So try and be a writer;
For, a caring mother cherishes her children.

In the night,
And like 'Route 66' in the land of your muse;
Sooner or later,
And like a cup of coffee or a cup of tea;
For the farmer who gives his labour out has,
The right of the first share of the produce.

She has chosen him,
And Oko is his name! !
But it will spread all over like the gangrene,
And like a loyal soldier in the land of your lovely muse.