My Grandfather’s Snuff

Black is the stuff
Travelling concoction he use to puff
I sat imagining the science that he’s got

My curiosity, the innocence as my eye sought
My grandfather’s snuff
I brace myself to adventure

Like Eve my hands I tried its texture
But my stick finger too has got guts
I quivered,
I shivered
I sneezed and coughed

My grandfather’s snuff
Only he knows,
Only the wise men and their gods

Never again will I sniff
Never again will I steal from my grandfather’s snuff

smoking pipe

Salamatu Sule

Author: admin

I am a member of the WRR editorial team.


  1. Reply
    WRR Poetry says

    Obviously, your gradpa’s snuff is not for children. Lessons learnt. LOL

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