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A tongue behind teeth,
Is a sword in its sheath.
It's Aeolus' wind in a jar,
Able to make or to mar.
The wag of a tongue,
Is a dirge or a joyful song.
It can speak peace to a storm,
Or incite a pogrom.
The words of a mouth
Bring forth opulence or a drought;
They bring favour to the couth,
And disfavour to the brute.
An unimpeded mouth is a polluted spring,
Value is rarely found in the songs that it sings
By Akpobome Akpughe
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