Cotton Tree.
Your once lush and green leaves,
Are now replaced by the flapping wings
Of black bats,
That fumble and tumble at one another,
As if they are in foray for food.
Cotton Tree,
You are such an accommodative type
Even to these sets of fugitive bats,
That seem to have nothing to think of
And nothing to cudgel their little brains over.
But it is so disrespectful,
For people to meddle with you Cotton Tree,
A monument for freed slaves,
A lineage of ‘Shenghe Pieh;
Our celebrated hero of the ‘Amistad Revolt’.
But look at these bats!
They go away with it unscathe,
as they fight for food.
Mysterious Cotton Tree,
You grow stronger with age,
Many folks will wish to be like you
To enjoy and attain your unique longevity.
Long live the Freetown Cotton Tree!
A monument for freed slaves,
A lineage of ‘Shenghe Pieh;
Our celebrated hero of the ‘Amistad Revolt’.
Beautiful Cotton Tree,
You need not comb your hair,
You often wear a beautiful wig like a lawyer.
You make tourist flock the city,
To behold your beautiful face,
In utter admiration for your splendor,
Or their families trace.
Magnificent Cotton Tree,
You stand proud, tall, robust, and majestic,
Adjacent the Law Courts
And your verdicts has never hurt,
You often hear and still remember
The sounds of sirens wailing prisoners to ‘Pa Demba’.
You look face down at the Sierra Leone Museum,
You glance askance at the ‘State House’
You are often in the grandiose company,
Of business minded people
In the busiest streets of Freetown,
Where vehicles, taxis and pedestrians,
Gambol around you
Day in and night,
Through out the year round.
To some folks, they say you are like a mascot.
You are reticent; you don’t talk a lot,
Or maybe, you don’t talk at all,
Brave Cotton Tree,
You are really guts!
In the midst of all the violence you were never hurt,
You never looked pale or frail,
You ‘ve never been reported sick or ail,
You never shivered and withered,
You never drooped or sagged,
You never in fact budged
You never felt timid during the attack,
You never lost an arm,
During that fatal entry in January 1999 when those well armed,
Empowered by the arms
Took the city by surprise,
Raided my country, and made it pay some high price.
Cotton Tree,
You have been a dedicated eye witness,
To diverse changes in High Seats’
To the chagrin of our country’s visible weakness.
From the changes in Colonial Rule
To Military take-over
To coups and forceful cross-over,
To times like this when Democracy has taken over
And the people’s wish and power has pulled over.
Cotton Tree,
A new fountain sprouts pure water
at your bossom,
Yet it will be fool-hardy for a thirsty man to drink.
Cotton Tree
My Cotton Tree,
Our cotton Tree,
You have passed your candid stories
Right down to many generations
For you are privileged to be
The only surviving one
To tell the country’s legendary tale.
Cotton Tree
Continue standing tall,
Right at the city centre.
Cotton Tree,
I salute you!
Cotton Tree,
A new fountain sprouts pure water
at your bossom,
Yet it will be fool-hardy for a thirsty man to drink.
Cotton Tree
My Cotton Tree,
Our cotton Tree,
You have passed your candid stories
Right down to many generations
For you are privileged to be
The only surviving one
To tell the country’s legendary tale.
Cotton Tree
Continue standing tall,
Right at the city centre.
Cotton Tree,
I salute you!
October 11th 2009
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