She died a year ago,
But so pathetic I wasn’t around during,
Her funeral,
Air would have protested against my loud dirge,
There would have been series of enjambment
In the stanzas of my her elegy.

General Abas said she died in a ****** coup,
But she was too wise to be wiped out in a coup,
She was like untamed lion.

Mr George gave another account,
He said she died during an internal war,
The war against the truth,
She has been from truth,
Too blind to see reality,
Fast asleep to be woken up.

The family doctor said she was poisoned,
Poisoned with the truth,
The truth that kills rather to set free.

Inspector James said she was sniped
From a fair perimeter.
The mortuary attendant said they
Heared movement,
Guess she was just try to raise up.

Today I arrive with nothing to feed my eye,
A little bit nostalgic,
I had the feeling that I belong here but not to death,
So I left for the yard, at the backyard,
I couldn’t belive what I saw on her gravestone,
“Nigeria a country, not a nation”

Music without instrument,
Just a band of choirs with
Mellifluous voices,
Up in the stage very
Tantalizing,
Taking millions attention,
As I myself couldn’t get enough.

Her beauty is like ACAPELLA,
Beauty without any cosmetic,
I hope this pale blue eyes would
Not blind me,
Cause this beauty is really a rare gem.

Tell the sun to go on vacation,
Cause I found her replica,
The beauty no wealth can buy,
That, that no king can place embargo on,
This beauty no poet can describe, hence
Making the poet lose his rhythm,
No artist can paint,
Photographer’s camera in protest.

The beauty no tears can dare,
Pure beauty that will make lose your appetite,
Your beauty without make up,
This indeed is a rare gem,

To her who never notice me,
And I never asked her name..

Probably on the sofa,
Through pictures and achievement so far,
Taking a memory lane,
When your eyes caught my stares very profane,

Just the two of us dear,
Our bonds nothing could dare,
You and I through hardships,
Ever air was to thwart these relationships,

Just the two of us honey,
When ain’t got money,
From the very beginning,
I prayed to the ending,

Just the two of us my lady,
My lady and baby,
From the outset,
That, you got my back,
Our spirit seals and set
The love keeps breathing,
Hence we keep loving.

The sun has been put to rest,
He must have be tired after a long hectic day,
He has gone to sleep, to his wife,
So darkness begins to crawl on the
Surface of the earth.

The birds too return to their nests,
Singing for their young ones,
The songs replace the debilitated bones
But the evil ones say behind,
To harm their their prey.

Fireflies show their beauty,
Their light illuminates my path,
Overcoming my lover’s, Lucy.

Fireworks in the sky,
Celebrating a fair departure.

The moon made it easier and
Stars made it comprehendable,
But the night came too soon,
I never had the chance to bade Lucy
Farewell!
Can’t sleep at the same moment.

The night came too soon,
I never had the chance to tell
Mother I would be coming,
I hate I did not tell my daughter I
Would be leaving.

So I woke up right before a gate,
Something told me this must be the gate
Men speak of,
I tried to knock like a common gentleman,
But it opened and my name was mentioned,
Then I heared “come in son”.
Live like no one else,
A life you would remember!

If tomorrow never breaks,
If the sun protest to shine,
And **** at your backyard
Cease To crow,
If the clock stop ticking,
And if mother will not wake you.

It the future seems to be delayed,
If goodness never beckons,
If the couch is empty,
No more for morning prayers.

Left alone the dark,
Not afraid of the dark,
Rather being alone in the dark.

The future seems dark and hold nothing,
Then you pray it should be a nightmare,
Plead to somone to wake you.

But tomorrow is  coming,
Sun will shine,
Mother's **** with crow,
The clock will tick,
And trust me mother will wake you,
No one can thwart it
Because the past is the key to the future.

A poem is like a naked person,
That needs redemption and mercy,
And every expression to impress,
And comitted like a press.

Every expressions are specious,
And rhythms  ostentatious,
Poets with their dulcet lips,
Giving vulnerability to your hips

Poets use one's Achilles' heels as
Leverage,
With many diction and language,
Their words can't be insipid,
So they play the cupid.

Poets seems complaisant,
Tantalizing those counts,
She said poet are killers,
But they claim to be healers.

Poets take their hyperborical expression
To the peak,
Making all your bones weak,
She said Poets are liars,
Oh! Poets are murderers.

Poets will make your soul tremulous,
With those words, sounding mellifluous,
Poets take you to the imaginary world,
Perhaps with just a word.

But Poets change their environment,
Releasing the truth from its confinement,
Chastising the revolts and destroyers
With mere pen and paper.

But she wouldn't agree,
Not to any degree,
She said Poets are liars,
Oh! Poets are murderers!

Queen sheba  will rise,
Seeking you with pearls and Diamond,
Just like the wisdom  of Solomon.
Your beauty is the greatest phenomenon
That have ever cross the Horizons.

The beauty that blind can see,
This beauty can set free,
It makes that passer-by(sun) to
Stop.
It makes the fastest runner cease (wind)

Kings of the world lust after it,
The Princes want to have it,
The Queens of the world jealous it,
The princess of the world  envy it.

Beauty that boycott the law of gravity {old age}
The antidote for wrinkles,
An island for dimples.

Your beauty is a mystery,
The ęwa that the sun can not
Withstand,
Your smiles that scholars
Can not fathom.

Ajoke, the aręwa of our village,
I had known you since you came Of Age.
Adesina the only heir to the Oba,
The Queen said he hasn't be sleeping since
He saw at the yam festival.

Balogun, the warrior of our village,
Promised the King 300 victories to have you,
Ayankola the prominent drummer,
That performs at the village square,
His 'konga'  gives vulnerability to hips,
He wonders what have become of yours,

Odewale, the best village Hunter,
He has sent his wives packing to have you.
Alamu, the village woodcarver,
That carved even Oduduwa,
He has no clue how to carve your beauty.
Bashiru, the son of omowumi,
The palmwine tapper,
His is ready so supply 300 kegs to have you.
Olaniyi, the biggest village farmer,
With plenty of barns, is ready to
Give all this for your beauty.
Ajoke Ashake you are the goddess
Of beauty!

The beauty bird sing for,
That attraction men speak of,
The smiles poets write of,
Your beauty is a mystery!


To her who never noticed me
But her name protest to leave my lips.