Monday, 30 December 2013

Alone At Christmas

Hiding from the next burst of dusty air
He scrambles further into the rusted tank
Hiding from truth and false realities of joy
The mice around him seem busy
Fighting for the last crumbs of bread
Their spiky fur now dusty and unfriendly
This was a home he now loved
One human inhabitant and a thousand mice

This rusted old tank was all he had
All he owned
All he inherited from the its previous tenant
It was all he could ever give as a gift

He hugged his dry legs
They lacked moisture and gloss
The crack-lines formed several patterns

He could feel his skin crack even more
It hurt
Oh yes it did
But this was the least of his worries
His stomach growled
The chill was getting worse
The dusty harmattan wind was torturing
It carried the sweet aroma of Christmas food and lots of dust
The aroma was torturing
He hungered
He hungered for a lot
And family
He wanted it all

He watched them complain about silly things as they walked past his tank each day
They nagged about foolish things
He wished he could worry about such
Low batteries
Lack of power
Broken heels
Broken homes
And others
He had no reason for such complaints
He knew nothing about all that
He had never experienced such
Unknown to him were his parents
The streets fathered him
And hustle was his mama

This tank was now his home
The micehis tenants
Alone he was at Christmas
Alone and hungry
Alone in the cold
Alone in his tank

By Sylvia Chika

© SylviaChika 2013

Tuesday, 24 December 2013

Sing Me a Sweet Carol

Sing me a sweet song
Sing me a sweet carol
Sing me a sweet Christmas song
Sing it to me with gracious melody
Sing it to me
Sing and do not stop
My heart leaps in anticipation
I hunger for your sweet voice
A rare gift from our Maker
You sing so well
You sweeten my heart
You cause the dark clouds to sail away
You bring sunshine into my life
Sing to me
Do not shut your lips
My sweet nightingale
Sing to me again
Repeat the song
Over and over again
Alert my senses with sweet music
Cause me to shiver in joy
I’m sailing
Sailing far far away
Away with all the music notes
Far away in Christmas bliss!

By Sylvia Chika

© SylviaChika 2013

Friday, 6 December 2013


The story that tore his heart…
It started with “once upon a time”
And ended with “Alas he became king”
He felt so horrible
He tried to hold back tears
But they spilled freely
He couldn’t contain his emotions
A sob turned to a hysterical cry
The piece of paper was getting heavy
It was peacefully absorbing the salty drops
The story tore his heart
The tale broke his heart
It was so true
It carried the truth
But just like quinine
It was hard to swallow
The writer just sat there
Staring at him
Watching his every reaction
The writer was shaken
And then the writer had a strange expression on his face
The writer did not expect such a story
A story from a man who oozed confidence and royalty
The king didn’t realise how difficult it would be
How difficult it would be to read his own story…his true story
This was the story of his life
The story of a little pauper turned king
No one was given the privilege to see him this way
He never let himself get this emotional
He was strong and wise
He was the king of his nation
But this writer had found his weakness
“His story written in ink”
The tears had stopped
But the writer was still in shock
He took a deep breath
He picked his sceptre
Majestically he stood
With a gentle stride
He approached the writer
Fearful yet hopeful he handed the writer the last page
And with shaky hands the writer received the last page of the book
“Print and distribute! Let them know their king!”
With these words he left the room
Leaving the poor writer alone in the auditorium
This was the beginning of the truth
A priceless story of the king’s unfathomable shine
The true story of a great king
The autobiography of a king

By Sylvia Chika

© SylviaChika 2013

Thursday, 5 December 2013


Far away
I wish to go
I wish to go far
Far away with you
To be with you
To be with you and you alone

I have dreams
Beautiful dreams
Colourful dreams
I see a rainbow
I glide from one end of the rainbow to the other end
We glide together
Oh such silly dreams!

You are my friend
You are my best friend
You make me feel safe
A man you are
A man who loves me
I feel peace
You give me peace

I say so little
You talk so much
But the words I speak are always true
No tales
Just truth
I’ve said I love you so many times
In a million childish ways

A shy tongue
My shy tongue cuddles my words
Sometimes I wish I could talk as much as you do
To rattle about life and love
But my shy lips just form a curve…I smile
And then I look away
That is my own way of saying “I love you”

By Sylvia Chika

© SylviaChika 2013