Cocks crow and crow
Frogs crock and crock
My sleep is warm and sweet
Morning chill makes me want my bed more

The star in her eyes
Her dark hair that flows
So soft is her voice
I’ve to make duty in or out

A weaver bird flies past the window out
A strip of grass in beak to build a nest
Traffic horns I hear and curses I know bread for sweat
Chocolate sleep, beauty and pistons, I’m at crossroads

Charles Jagongo Ogola

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crossroads-65/