1_ THEY CLEARED THEIR CONSCIENCE !

They were so hard, those years supposed
To be the sweetest in my life,
The early childhood that composed
The period void of care and strife.

I drudged to earn the bread l ate
With no one round to love or teach,
A poor girl that men would await
To find a chance to leap and reach.

All people gathered to destroy
That stupid girl that was too young.
They offered me a little toy,
And l connived what they had wrung.

The toy is still with me till now.
It is so dear, an old friend.
It cleared their conscience to endow
And lead my life to this foul end.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

THE EARS OF WHEAT

I wonder how man can accept
To write about a trivial thought.
He even calls it a precept
While it is minus than mere naught.

A poet has an aim to give,
A notion that can open eyes,
Not what he only can conceive
A clever thought he does appraise.

Wise men forever think they need
More knowledge as they are too small,
For better learning ask and plead
As learning has no end at all.

The empty wheat ear lifts its head
As it is light and contains none.
The fruitful one's heavy as lead;
It bows under its heavy crown.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHY DON'T WE?

Glowing warmth shines in my heart;
God gives me that warmth to live.
It shows me how life is bright
When we live to take and give.

I find lots of things you have.
I see them just in few words
That make tranquil hearts strive
To read more from your soft hands.

Few words from you make me dance;
I have such words that make you
Dance like me and soar with bliss.
How rich is this life we view!

Life is full of love so pure,
Clean and blessed and makes you laugh;
Live that joy that can endure,
And enjoy your happy life.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THAT'S WHAT YOU DO.

You are my spring with its soft breeze
That takes me long to stroll and breathe,
And feel that life floats on with ease
While you my fond heart cool and soothe.

You are a field of prime jasmine
Where l so slowly love to walk.
The smell you waft is my heart's kin
Whose fragrance dew my skin will soak.

No one but you can give such love,
Which grants the heart long lease of life.
You're pure and charming like a dove
That no love we give is enough.

All that will happen when we stroll
Together in a crowded street
In summer and when sweat can boil
All people who hate summer heat.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHAT CAN BE DONE?

What can a person do to calm
The fear that can disturb his heart
While age is taking him to harm
And he can see his nearing blight?

He lives some years of careless mind
When life shows him his bottle's full.
He drinks but knows it can still stand
Whatever large gulps he can pull.

Then age appears to stare and wink.
He looks at life with some clear doubt.
He cuts down on what he can drink,
But none will take him from age out.

Old age comes fast like furious steed
To prance just by a high rock brink.
The steed will balk; none can impede
To make him fall, no time to blink.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LOVE IS NOT AN EXCUSE.

I've made your soul; l won't leave you.
If l leave you, you will be dead.
Your face will lose its lovely hue
If your morale can't go ahead.

What if you stand with your own child
Unable just to defend him!
What if your wife cannot abide
Your weakness that goes past the rim!

Love is not just a good refuge,
You practice when you cannot act.
Jesus could withstand whips and grudge
To show His love through His great might.

Christ always knocks the door of soul
To show you that He is in sight.
He does not force you Him to call
But when you call, He comes to fight.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

A DUTY OR ENJOYMENT?

Are prayers interesting to say,
Or just a duty we can't shun?
Do they to heaven pave the way,
Or acts through which pleasure is won?

Are they mere visits to the Lord,
Who can decide a lot of things?
We visit Him for His reward
And to avoid the plagues He brings.

To write is not an act we like,
But ask a poet,"is it so?"
For him to indite is the peak
Of pleasure where he likes to go.

Why don't we pray just as we write,
And live with those most lovely Ones?
Then we spend sweet time in God's sight,
And no one such a visit shuns.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________