Happy new month readers! As promised here is a poem by my  friend and my short review of the poem. Enjoy!


When will I see your face?

When will I hold you again?

I reminisce

Of our time in the garden

I can see

The pink blush of your cheeks

The spreading redness

A perfect blend

With the varied hue of flowers around us


Time soon snatched from our grasp

Yet enough to taste the nectar of your lips

And drink the sweetness of your beauty


Everything reminds me of you here

The soulful songs of sporting nightingales

Flapping wings of the darting sparrow

The clink of metal on metal

As we march through the glen

In pace to the sound of war drums

The prattle of your dainty feet

On Alan’s wooden floor

As I watch you dance

In rhythm

To the band’s gusty ballad

Each step

Fanning the flames

Of my rising desire


The blast of the trumpet

Heralds the arrival of the invading army

As the battle is joined

My thoughts stray

To our first meeting

Beneath the shade

Of the twisted green oak

We chatted

To the distant sounds of the fledgling fair



The whistle of arrows overhead

Blotting out the sun

Announce the enemy’s impending attack

Crouching under our locked shields

In formation to repel the invading horde

Reminds me of your song

In the voice that caught my fancy

The sweet sharpness of your breathe

As you exhale slowly

To freeze the sweetness of our embrace

Prolonging the passion of our physical union

Entwined as we were

On mounds of hay

Beyond the castle walls


In the thick of combat

Face to face

With the enemy

The sound of sword out of scabbard

The movement of blade through air

As metal connects with bone and flesh

The crunch as it sinks to the hilt

That is reminiscent of the other day

As twilight welcomed the evening

And crickets chirped to the sounds of our passion


Pleasant homecoming

As shaft slid into pleasure nest


In the aftermath of battle

The groans of the dying

The moans of the wounded

Reminds me

Of your stifled moans

As caressing fingers explored Venus’ mount

Jupiter sang

We danced

To the sounds of ecstasy we dare not share


Here I lay

Between the living and the dying

Thoughts of you

And everything we shared

Flood my consciousness

As I drift into the void of nothingness

A million darts pierce my soul

With regret that I will not see you again

More painful than the barbed arrows of the enemy

Embedded in my heart

And the widening gash in my groin

As life seeps away

With my blood soaking the green grass


All is fair in love and war

How true of a warrior’s life

Love and War

Olúwádàre A. Kóláwolé

23rd May, 2016

Kolawole Oluwadare



I thought writing a review of a poem would be a walk in the park. You know, being the best literature student in Secondary school (pops collar) I have long convinced myself that I am very, verrrrry good at doing literature reviews. I was planning to start by saying:

Kolawole serves a fresh plate of love, war and the vast space in between…

Scrap that.


In Love and War, the poet persona is a man who goes to war after he takes his woman’s virginity…

Okay. Stop.

The truth is that this poem is simple but the poet makes it look complex. I must say I admire his use of imagery. The poet persona seems to move between a moment of past pleasure, longing for his lover and the present combat with imminent injury or death. Regardless of his situation he cherishes memories of this lover and takes the memories away with him to death.

Obviously a passionate man with pure, raw lust and attraction for his lover, the poet persona relishes his memories of the time they had together perhaps before he went to battle the poet doesn’t reveal. The danger of the battlefield doesn’t seem to faze him. He holds on to his thoughts of her like it’s a treasure too precious to lose.

The poet is able to capture the lust, desire and passion of the poet persona with imagery and his way of writing swinging from past to present is quite clever. His comparisons are also very brilliant as it gives a sharp contrast of two different battles-on the field with men and in the hay with a certain lover. The reader can feel the raw emotions of the poet persona and can relate with the pain of loss as the poem ends tragically.

All together this was a clever poem packed with carefully crafted and hidden meanings for a first read. But once you read it again the poem explodes and reveals its true beauty; the helplessness of a man at battle with a woman waiting at home.

I would have wanted the poem to end on this note “With my blood soaking the green grass” but I guess the poet prefers the ending he gave it.

Graphic image from


So what do you think about the poem? Let your comments pour in people!







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