Bitter Sweet Memory

Echoes of you linger, a whispered sigh
A gentle breeze that stirs the heart's goodbye
Memories of laughter, tears, and nights
A bittersweet reminder of love's fleeting lights

In the silence, I hear your voice
A soft whisper that makes my heart rejoice
Though we're apart, moments remain
A treasured keepsake, a love that won't wane

Time may have taken you away from me
But in my heart, your memory will always be
A flame that burns, a love that's true
A bittersweet reminder of me and you

-- Ogangan Udugba

The Hollow Clock

He kissed his wife at half-past eight,
A ghost kiss, brief and cold as slate.
"I work late, love," the practiced lie
Fell softly, meeting her distant eye.
He drove to where the streetlights bloomed,
A different threshold, different roomed,
Where Nnenna waited, warm and bright,
A stolen sliver of the night.
Her perfume drowned the scent of home,
In tangled sheets, no need to roam
Beyond this urgent, fevered touch –
He craved the fire, forgot the hutch
Where vows like dusty heirlooms lay.
He whispered things he'd never say
To Ada, stitching by the lamp,
Her quiet strength a steadying damp
On his own restless, seeking flame.
He thought her life a placid game
Of household rhythms, calm and deep,
Unknowing while the city slept,
John came – his friend from club and bar –
Bearing not whisky, but a star
Of jasmine blooms. Helen would rise,
Surprise a softness in her eyes.
John knew the cracks within the glass,
Knew where the weary hours would pass
For Ada, waiting, patient, still,
A vessel needing warmth to fill.
He offered laughter, shared complaint,
Then more, where moonlight made no saint.
Her touch, to John, was not a theft,
But solace, tenderly bereft
Of her own husband's absent care.
They moved together on the stair,
A silent dance the clockwork missed,
Sealing their pact with murmured tryst
While he traced patterns on her skin
(That other her), deep lost within
The thrill of secrets closely kept,
Believing Ada soundly slept
Or read, or dreamed of nothing more
Than duties knocking at the door.

Time spun its fragile, brittle thread.
One afternoon, suspicion led
Him home too soon – a nagging doubt,
A sense of something wrong about
A phrase John dropped, a glance too swift.
He turned the key, a gentle drift
Of foreign scent – not Nnenna's musk –
Hung in the hall. A shadowed dusk
Filled the front room. He heard a sound,
A stifled gasp, abrupt, unbound,
Then footsteps rushing soft, unseen,
A side door clicking shut, serene.
He found his wife beside the hearth,
Her cheeks flushed with a second birth
Of color, hair escaping neat.
A book lay tumbled at her feet.
"John called," she offered, voice too light,
"Just borrowed back that fishing light
He'd lent you months ago." Her gaze
Slipped sideways through the dying haze
Of afternoon. A thread of fear,
So fine, hung trembling in the air.

Then, near the couch, his sharp eye caught
A gleam of silk, a pattern wrought
In blues he knew. He stooped, heart slow,
And lifted it. A scarf. And so,
It wasn't Anna's, bold and red...
This fragile thing, blue-threaded, led
Back to a gift he'd given John
Last birthday dawn. His thoughts were gone,
Swept clean by cold, cascading dread.
He held the evidence, soft thread
By damning thread. He saw it clear –
The hurried step, the scent, the fear
In Ada's eyes... not for his sin,
But for the lover ushered in
And out the side. His trusted friend.
The careful world he sought to mend
With secret fires now buckled, broke.
The accusations choked, unspoke.
He stared at Helen, mute, undone,
Holding the scarf beneath the sun
That slanted through the windowpane,
Illuminating all the pain
He'd sown, and she, in silent rage,
Had harvested on this stark stage.
The clock upon the mantel chimed,
Marking the hollow, empty time.

-Ogangan Emmanuel Udugba

Trapped

Between the sea's unyielding wall
And the enemy's relentless call
We stand, uncertain what to do
Our fate, a puzzle, torn in two

The waters stretch, a vast divide
Before us, an impassable tide
Behind, the pursuers close in fast
Their rage and hatred will surely last

Like reeds in the wind, we sway
Tossed between hope and dismay
The impossible path, we must choose
And trust that God will see us through

In the stillness, a voice whispers low
"Fear not, I will make a way to go"
The waters part, a path appears
And we walk forward, through doubts and fears

With every step, our faith grows strong
And we emerge, where we once were wrong
The enemy's plans, foiled and undone
As we cross over, to the other side, we've won.

-Ogangan Emmanuel Udugba

The Plan

We gather in the shadows, minds aligned
Discussing every detail, every possible sign
The target's layout, the guards' routine pace
We map out each step, in this high-stakes game

One whispers, "Security's tight, we'll need a key"
Another nods, "I've got a plan to breach"
We talk of safe-cracking, of timing and skill
Each voice adds to the strategy, the thrill

But what of alarms, of cameras in place?
"We'll disable them," one says with a steady face
And what of escape routes, of getaway cars?
"We've got it covered," comes the reassuring star

We rehearse the plan, each one knowing their part
The heist unfolds in our minds, a work of art
With precision and calm, we'll execute the score
And make off with the loot, like ghosts in the night once more

-Ogangan Emmanuel Udugba

Dear Dad

A gentle soul, a loving heart,
You left us far too soon, and we are torn apart.
Your laughter, wisdom, and guiding light,
Will forever shine in our memories, a beacon bright.

In your absence, we feel lost and alone,
But your legacy lives on, a love that's grown.
Through the tears and the pain, we'll find a way,
To celebrate your life, and honor your stay.

Your strength, your kindness, and your gentle way,
Inspired us all, each and every day.
You showed us what it means to live with love,
And though you're gone, your memory stays above.

Rest now, dear dad, and know we're fine,
We'll carry your love with us, all the time.
Though you're no longer here to hold our hand,
Your love and legacy will forever stand.