I AM THE GOD OF YOUR SOUL.

You don't intend to know that l
Incite the feelings inside you.
I stir your fear, and move your eye;
Those are my signals that l show.

You ask for clues, but what are these?
They are so clear, but you lack sense.
Who helps you and controls your fears,
And gives you peace and strong defence?

Don't you ken that l've made your soul,
The Father Who lives inside you?
You want material life, you toil
Or ask the parents, who flesh grow.

Your soul l protect with my hands,
With my pain on the cross, you know.
I protect you from that who stands
To sever you from me through woe.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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PETALS AND THORNS

You want to write about your love,
Don't use a sheet with ink stuff.
A subject as pure as white dove
On rose's petals you should graph.

The petals so soft and fragile
Can convey meaning of great depth.
Paper for love is not worthwhile
As love is dearer than huge wealth.

Don't write about it with your pen.
Your pen is plastic and can't feel.
Write it with rose's thorns which then
The thorns to petals can appeal.

Between the petals and the spike,
You can have hope mixed with great pain.
The pain that Cupid caused to Psyche
Can't be conveyed on sheet by pen.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

WHERE ARE THOSE DAYS ?

Went and passed, but still in mind,
Days that showed us life is sweet.
Cares my parents loved to stand
To see joy in us complete.

Days look like a charming nymph
With long hair, sitting on shore,
Combing black hair with triumph.
She attracts; none can restore.

Where are we from that great charm
That makes all life appear void,
Like the days of that past dream
That no hard toil can afford ?

Cares were placed in mum's fond hands.
Nothing can bring back to me.
Where are your tales and your lands ?
I recall, but l can't see.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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THE NEGLECTED OLD MAN

He has a place for smile on face
Though nearly crippled in his house.
Nothing his good heart can replace
Though nearly thrown out with despise.

He was much loved and so agile,
And all the people loved his acts.
They loved his gifts that were worthwhile
As dear gifts could bring great impacts.

When old with broken leg in bed,
No one remembered his old days.
So near to blindness with eyes red,
No one would tread his distant ways.

Despite all that, his laughs are loud
As if he sees a group of saints.
They bring him joy deep and profound,
And leave no place for his complaints.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

E A S T E R

The rays that fill the sky and earth
Give light that makes us see and move
As Jesus' feat gives rays whose mirth
Fill our hearts with cheerful love.

No death can cast its gloom in space.
He has shown us that death is void
As He rose up to death efface
And join His twelve and all the crowd.

That makes us on earth dance and sing;
The trip to His great land elates.
All mothers, ere that feast, begin
To live great time preparing plates.

We dance and sing; all friends will come
And we'll enjoy a feast so great.
The cheers will fill our hearts and home
As Easter is the greatest feat.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HAPPINESS THROUGH AGONY

My Lord well knew His final step
Would be His end on ruthless cross.
As man He chose His way to grip
Though He knew coming pain was gross.

Though man, He could not opt escape
As that would bring Him great remorse,
An endless pain, and loss of hope,
Eternal crosses in their force.

The pain of cross would save His soul,
With all the beauty of its love.
He stuck to His soul happy goal
Whose anguish was short; He could shove.

He was so glad despite that pain
Though agony was grim and hard.
His joy of that cross had great gain;
He rescued who killed Him and scarred.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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SAINT JOHN THE DAMASCENE

John Damascene, great eastern saint,
Your hand was cut for wrongs undone.
You took your hand; near Mary knelt.
The icon could your hand regain.

They cleared you from the wrongs, supposed
That had been done, and pardon asked,
But you refused your post restored
And as a hermit your life spent.

You wrote a praise for Mother saint
That still enchants us till these days.
That miracle can us acquaint
How God can always show His rays.

Saint John, how much l envy you:
A miracle restored your hand,
And you God's work with your eyes view.
How happy your life was on land.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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