MY POETRY
We live a moment of great cheer
and see the world dancing around.
Life gets the moon that reflects what
our heart, the sun, that gives its light.

What are you, verse, but just a voice
of rhythmic cadence in the heart
which comes spontaneously from there,
a song that chants what the heart bears?

The words are derived from its tune,
arranged by what the cadence yields,
recited to the tongue to say
what sort of state the heart abides.

With closed eyes we hear the tongue sings,
repeating what the tune dictates,
no change of words the tune allows
as verse can't accept altered sense.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

GLORIOUS LIFE
It's glorious to pass through the world
though there is death in its last scene.
Its start is great, the joyful child,
who lives a period of delight.

He grows up and he feels his mind
start to unfold the hidden wealth
that life conceals inside its time
and he starts diving in its depth.

One gets so famous for his rhyme
and lives with angels in their sky.
He enjoys life with rhyme and thoughts
and glides in heaven where he floats.

One finds in science various fields
with Einstein his fame will bloom,
while some are charmed by Napoleon.
All feel glad when their planes are flown.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE JEALOUS FROG
Men whose pride blinds their good taste
if they aren't always the best
are disliked by all the world
and they lose their kin and friends.

Frog, you can't compete with cows.
Stop your drink as your inside
will explode and end your life
while the cow will look and laugh.

Why don't you think that you are
amphibious and you can dive
while the cow cannot compete
though a big size all cows have?

Each in life can have his turn
and none can contest with him.
Men of pride, look for your turns
instead of your killing whim.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

ABORTION  AGAIN !
Can mistakes be corrected by mistakes?
If yes, correct conception by forced birth.
What sort of fate you bring to that live cell
which is considered man in our world !

This little cell is now the start of man,
whose life is just a spark of little length.
Once started, he will come to his soon end,
but he can live a chance of building fame.

Can you appoint yourself in place of a judge
who ends a life that starts by complete chance?
What if this little cell is your dear friend,
or your own father who gave you your life?

He might be Spenser or one of those men
who wrote their names in gold of greatest worth.
Who has the right to smother those great flames
and send them dead before they see the earth?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

CIVILIZATION
Civilization, you were built
with a hammer, pen, and sword
through the people who had will
to get married and to spawn.

Those great people built and fought,
but got nervous and too old.
Children left their homes and streets,
filling those of poorest lands.

They have come with greatest force,
but their pen is of poor ink
with a hammer and sharp sword
to demolish not to build.

Men of brilliant walls and spires,
can you have new babes to stand
to defend what you have built
or just hide under your quilt.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE STUPID MOUSE
A tiger cub was shy and dull.
A mouse assisted him to gain
the courage that all tigers owned
to get the name he should attain.

It taught him how to swim and climb
high mountains and to reach the peak,
to be so bold, to be so strong,
and when in hunger what to seek.

The tiger got so bold and strong
and held the post through what it taught.
He started to despise his friends,
and his foes with great fear were fraught.

One day, he was with hunger struck.
He looked around for what to eat.
No food was found to calm him down.
The mouse could form his piece of meat.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE MAUSOLEUM OF THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER
Napoleon, you have such a name
that books of life are so proud of .
Those who built that name died like rats .
No one can know their daring acts.

Where is the son who left his mum ?
She wept when she was left so far
from her dear son who went to die
to build the name of Bonaparte .

A man left his young wife and child.
The child did not know why his mum
profusely shed her blood red tears
as his dad did not beat or shout .

The leader proudly sat to write
his famous name on glorious maps ,
whereas the bodies of those rats
were thrown in pits of unknown men .
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

THE WAY OUT
We break our heads and think of life
to reach some verse we can indite.
It takes so much to sift this life.
Why don't we choose what has great worth?

This man is great, but what he writes
is just about some crap that can't
give good smell even if he tries
to give it values that it lacks.

There are great issues in the world
that concern you and break your heart.
Why don't you with the greatest minds
endeavour to find good ways out ?

Where are you, Thalia, of great verse ?
Why don't you tell us why and how
you want your poets to use rhyme
to pour on them your precious lines ?

We all live in a world so cruel
that never tries to show the way
to live with tranquil mind and heart ;
why don't we try to find ways out ?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LOOKING FOR A TREASURE
Show me love and take my heart.
Beggar l am for true love.
It's the hope that l look for.
Far from it l can't survive.

People search for this great wealth
in the eyes of some cute girls.
I peruse and hope to find
my great wealth hidden somewhere.

Love is what my eager soul
hope to melt in to meet peace,
which l've looked for all my life,
valued treasure, hard to gain.

Lucky are those who don't care,
but l am in serious search.
Just one promise l can find,
my great Master, Jesus Christ.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

EACH HAS HIS PROBLEM.
"Ice-bergs start to move and thaw.
They will swallow sea-shore towns.
What shall we do? Life will get
hard for man to leave these sites.

"Carbon dioxide is high,
caused by cars and big machines.
Heat of summer gets so strong.
We can scarcely move or breathe.

"Trees are losing leaves and fruit.
Sunshine everywhere is hot.
Birds and cats are falling dead.
What can we do to stop that?

"Even my pampered rose shrub
loses power in its ***."
"Sorry, l can't help. My fridge,
street dust-bins, are getting bare."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MILTON AND PARADISE LOST
Milton, how can you depict
life in heaven in such sights,
rebels fighting for the throne
as on earth people have done ,

angels using arms and swords,
fighting armies of old friends,
satans beaten, but not killed
to endure what malice gains ?

God is mercy and we know
Christ's behaviour on the earth.
How can Christ be cruel up there
and forgive man on the cross ?

Milton, you have shown me God
In a way l don't expect.
Goodness does not need to fight.
Through its love it spreads its might.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

ARE YOU A POET ?
Poet, you encourage war .
I wonder how you can do !
Do you know that your pen pours
gasoline on burning coal .

How can you send your sons there
to throw themselves in that fire ?
Why don't you go there yourself ?
Is that hell hot to endure ?

Poet, how can you admire
fire that consumes the flesh ?
Fire is made to feed sons
not to throw them out of reach.

Embers that your sons can't hold
burn their hands while yours are cool .
You behold the woes they feel
to uplift your selfish mood.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE  LIGHTHOUSE
People vary in this world.
Some can build a bright lighthouse,
and direct distracted ships
when the harbour's out of sight.

Some just look with envious eyes
and ask themselves,"Why don't l
build a lighthouse, and my name
shines like them and sees the light?"

When they see a new lighthouse,
they get mad and use their might,
not to help endangered ships,
but destroy the shining light.

People differ in their sight .
I accept and support that,
but l hate to see some eyes
hope to destroy what is bright.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

POETIC  LICENCE
Verse, you have your rhythmic beats,
that oblige all those who write
to ignore a little rule,
poetic licence to have .

Lots l read  to bards laureate,
and discover some mistakes.
Can we strip them of their crowns ,
or just look at their great lines ?

I have taken them as guides
who can direct my shy pen ,
and l try to see their flame
that can light my obscure way .

Verse, you are the brilliant thoughts
that can shed light on dark lanes .
You can kindle tapered wax
that reveals insights on earth .
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHY ALL THAT RUSH ?
We know, dear spring, that you come every year,
but each year, you come riding that fast steed.
Why don't you think of those who always wait
for your advent and slow down your rush speed ?

We wait for you but with fear of your flight,
and bring the fodder that your steed loves most.
It does not care for food, but it's just proud
that none can race with it in such blind haste.

What can we do but accept and keep quiet.
Both, steed and you, seem hasty and don't care
about those who would love to stay with you
though once you show up, you turn us your rear.

Why are you rush and careless of fond hearts?
Do you consider us like your own trees?
We aren't as heartless as the earth and crags,
and never survive as some trees can live.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

OLD MEMORIES
Old days, you passed and went so far.
The further you depart, the more
I miss your smell that was inside
the roses that our garden bloomed.

I miss the light the full moon cast
through the vine trellis that allowed
the lunar tender light to pass
through clustered grapes and scattered leaves.

I still recall when we sat there,
and watched the stars to see whose light
was brighter than their sisters gleam
and wondered why they were so bright.

One said they were of bigger size.
Another said they loved us more.
I thought but did not tell the rest
to ripen our still sour grapes.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHY DO I WRITE ?
Perhaps, you ask, "Why do you write ?
Is it not just to build a name?"
It is in part for that clear aim ,
but truth and love have their great charm .

I tend to say the honest word ,
but people hate to hear the truth .
The truth is always for the heart
and worthless words are for the tongue .

I find in my pen and my sheet
the only friends who love the truth .
My tongue feels free to break the chain
imposed on by a crafty brain .

I love the truth when it joins hands
with some love that can blunt its blade .
The two endow what we all need
to get the joy and life they plead .
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HE LEFT EMPTY-HANDED.
A wise man once had got so rich,
and gathered tanks of gold at home.
He asked his sisters once a year
to rub the gold and find the sum.

He was respected by all men
as he helped all who had a need.
He spent on people quite a lot
despite all that his gold increased.

The city and the countryside
respected him for his great wealth.
He did his best to gain their love,
but gold moved their hearts and their breath.

He wrote in his will ere he died
to make two holes in his coffin,
and stretch out his hands one each side
to show he left with nothing in.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE CROWN OF BOLDNESS
Life is not a dream of nonsense,
you can see just in your sleep.
Life is real ; ask who have won
greatest places in war fields.

Life for some men is a venture ;
they do all that can be done.
They with tranquil heart will wait for
what the consequence can gain.

Life gives great respect for all those
who reveal courage and force,
scorn for those who crave for sure ends
if those ends are low and mean.

Boldness is my aim and purpose
as it has the glorious crown.
Once you wear it, you die just once,
if bare headed, lots of times.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE  REAL  ****
I love the good, but those who are so bad
I love much more. They have endured the worst.
Those who are good have lived in perfect style
while those who are rejected live with dust.

They have ten fingers and ten toes like us
and inhale their bad smell that their flesh casts.
They know their dirt but must eat our food,
so the feel shy as we hate their bad stink.

No man accepts himself if he's real ****,
but they submit as they have no outlet.
The real **** are those who think they are
the purest gold while they are real dirt.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HE BEGS FOR MORE.
A bomb exploded just beside.
A man lost one eye but could see
a boy was crying as his arm
had just a cut, but cried with fear.

The man went straight to help the child
and left himself with none to aid.
He cared for him while his eye bled,
but he ignored his blood and pain.

A girl saw him and was surprised.
"He has a little cut," she said.
"while you have lost your bleeding eye.
Why don't you try to save yourself?"

"In him, l see a little boy,
who relishes his start of life.
He loves its taste and begs for more.
His tears provoke my heart to cry."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LOVE  RULES  LIFE .
Thorns of fields, you can unnerve my frightened mind
for a while but then you weary my calm soul
whose strong love is wildly rampant and can't wait
as the love of souls can't live under control.

Man has not been asked if he would come to earth.
That's a proof that life is full of glorious gifts.
Man's heart is a copy of the Artist's heart
which is flaming with warm love whose heat is strong.

Earthly love, no force can stop your sailing boat
whose unfolded sails drift you to that long line,
where the endless skies meet our land to join
great, divine love with that of little men.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE PRECIOUS DAWN
I'm glad that life at last began to smile
as all the time it went against my will.
Then it sent me a spark to paint my thoughts
in verse and have my fame the world to fill.

I got so pleased my life was not in vain
and fame began to gleam and give me hope.
I worked so hard ; l was so pleased l found
what gave my soul a dawn to clear my scope.

The fields and sights were there, but it was dark.
The spark could light the fields by shining dawn.
At last, l knew that joy was always there,
but waiting for the spark to make it known.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

AN ACT THAT MEANS A LOT
What made you, faithful dog, run inside?
You would spend in the park all your day.
Tongues of flame shouted loud ; what drove you
to leave joy and rush in that hot way.

You deemed your dear old friend was inside
and escaped through the men who were there.
No one could get to you as the flames
were so fierce and the place void of air.

You went in and searched for your dear man,
but you did not find him in the house.
Getting out was stopped by spears of flame
and escape from that hell had no chance.

You stayed there, black and charred but your name
would stay bright in the mind of that man.
He would tell your short tale of true love ;
it might help who are dubbed quite human.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MAN  CAN  BE  GREAT.
The Lord has made man strong with mind to build his name
through acts that need a lot of thoughts, hard work, and will.
His passage can't be soft as few can build what stays
like statues on hard rocks whose sight the world can fill.

Each man should share this race that starts when he is born.
You close your eyes ; you're free, but this fast race goes on.
A lot are not prepared ; that is for their bad luck,
but once you join the race, your deeds can life adorn.

You shed a lot of sweat or it can be your blood,
but you feel every drop will water your own cause
that can embroider life and place a stitch that builds
great canvas man's mind wrought ; it all his power draws.

That picture gets the Lord to look and like man's deeds.
He deems, "My sons are great. They follow my footsteps.
I've wrought the world and life ; they're doing all their best,
so l'm so glad that they are fond of my concepts."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

I  ENVY  THEM.
I reflect how people can in life neglect
serious matters that they face on their own ways,
matters that can fluctuate their mood and mirth
and can change their joy from darkness to bright rays.

They may ponder what they eat or where they go,
if their organs can have *** or they get frail,
but they don't reflect on what will happen when
they get old or where their soul will set its sail.

I'm not speaking about faith for its own sake.
I'm just thinking how faith can give mirth to man.
After living for sometime like human beings,
can we turn to senseless earth with all our clan?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HAVE WE THOUGHT ABOUT IT ?
Parents, do you know what you have done ?
You have brought a person to the world.
He has his own feelings and his fear,
and his path will end up in the ground.

Life contains the frowning and the glad.
That depends on parents and their pith.
You can make him love the gifts of life
or the afterlife with all its wealth.

Can those who depend on earth give proof
that the world is such a nice place,
or prepare a proof the afterlife
can't endow him all the precious bliss ?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WEAKNESS AND LOVE
Danger, you can change the words a tongue
would be glad to say  about a man.
You may force a mother to deny
whom she held in womb, her dearest son.

Jesus knew that Peter would recant,
yet He asked him thrice if he loved Him.
Then He made him shepherd of His flock,
giving him the key of his own realm.

Love is what He wants a man to feel,
and not what he says in state of fear.
Who can say the truth when danger comes,
but who's dear will stay forever dear.

That endows me comfort, my dear Lord.
I'm so certain of my love to you.
Just You, no one else, are my dear God.
I'm like Peter whose love is so true.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THEY ARE WAITED FOR.
He walked with pride that filled his eyes and face
as if he challenged all the passers-by.
I looked at him ; he stirred my pride and wrath.
I thought that l should such a man defy.

By chance, my eyes went down and saw  his shoes.
They could remind me of those of my son.
I smiled with love and prayed long life to him
as that last thought anon my heart had won.

This man is like my son and that girl's dear
as they have people who are their own kin.
I love them all, and they are close to me
as all share me my care and worried brain.

Like me, they have some worried people there,
waiting to hear their keys and coming sound.
How can l wish them but a safe return
as homes are waiting for their coming round ?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

FAITH AND CIVILIZATION
I kindly ask the people who might ken :
why do we come to earth if life will end
and take us to a grave so grim and dark,
no hope for rebirth on the better land ?

What are you, life, if he who builds a name
like that the man who built the Sphinx has shown
if in a jiffy he departs with death
that covers him with earth where he is thrown ?

Can such a man have courage to build what
the ancient Greeks and Romans could construct
when they lived in the guardianship of gods
who gave them hope of some rewards to get.

People of Europe, where are your great men
who built your land and made you rule the world?
Have they gone with their faith and left their kids
to argue trivial thoughts of success void ?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE START OF ETERNAL LIFE
You go through life and gather lots of deeds
whose details you can see with lots of pride,
but time is like a sieve that drops the trash,
and keeps your deeds quite safe in your old mind.

You see your deeds and their effects on those
who were with you, but some have left the world.
You miss those people and think of past facts,
exaggerated if they were not good.

Then you begin old age when inner life
is full of active force with idle flesh.
Here, you will start your heaven or your hell
as you are caught in conscience' hooks and mesh.

What is the start of heaven, but a voice
that takes you up to join the goodness' soul?
Your heart and mind will fly in cloudless sky,
where no black clouds that can your calm life spoil.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

RESURRECTION AND THE HOLY GHOST
How can a man suppose himself so strong
if it's wellknown that death will end his road ?
Though he wore the two horns, and built strong fame,
the skull will make the scythe sharp like a sword.

No one escapes that end. Where will man go ?
Is it from earth to earth as some would say ?
Is there no hope for people to escape
the worry of that end and its dim way ?

I'm stunned how those who'd just denied Him could
become so strong and preach His own belief ?
It was the sudden power which they'd got
through resurrection, and the Ghost of Life .

A miracle took place and Jesus rose.
That shook their fear and gave them lots of trust
that Christ was living despite His hard cross
to give the life that will forever last.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

THAT'S WHY CHRIST CAME.
He left His upper home and came to earth
as He saw people lost, immersed in pain.
He came to show them how a man can free
himself from pain, and highest joy attain.

Man lives great life when he lives through his soul,
which never dies and his joy can restore.
God gave that joy to Adam and his Eve
and told them by pure life they could secure.

That life was shown when God washed His men's feet
although He knew that Passion was so near.
He said the liege is he who serves the group
and takes them out of pain as they are dear.

He loved and gave, but never took for self.
His precious meed was seeing men appeased.
No agony could wreck His noble soul
when He beheld the souls of men were pleased.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LOVE THROUGH PITY
Nothing else but deepest love
burns so warmly in my heart.
I love people of all kinds,
Young and old, too dumb or smart.

Love is kindled in my heart,
aflame by the heat of grief
for what people endure through
this harsh and most horrid life.

What can man do in his life
except racing with swift time,
thinking that a little fame
helps him highest peaks to climb?

He runs fast from birth to death,
saving money, writing verse ;
then so quickly disappears
in a grave, his final house.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHY DON'T YOU HELP, MIND?
Mind of man, you are so great
when you give what can be read
by a brother mind that needs
little help to go ahead.

You are great when you give men
what they need to know the truth,
scattered in the cosmic space
and no mind can grasp its worth.

When you write what with great ease
baffled minds can understand.
They catch one end of the thread,
mighty motion to great land.

Dearest mind, you spend long time,
thinking of what you would write.
Is a puzzle better than
knowledge that gives great delight?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH,
____________

SADNESS IS CONTAGIOUS.
I feel so scared of anguish and harsh pain
that man goes through after illegal joy.
He feels so pleased by what he takes from her;
she loves and yields him what can her destroy.

He takes her heart from her and something more.
She deems she can protect her heart with him.
He takes her beauty and finds it so sweet,
but does not save her heart; he throws it grim.

Her life has changed and scales of chagrin veil
her eyes, and all her house that live bad time.
All that has kindled in his heart a voice
and bells of blaming sound have played their chime.

He starts to live and feel profound remorse
to pay the price of joy that he's received.
Her state of sadness wakes up his dull heart
and gets her bleakness in his heart conceived.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HE LEFT HIS PORCH.
I used to look and find him in his porch,
but now, l look and he is far from there.
Where has he gone? They say that he has died.
What does that mean? For me that's quite obscure.

Is he alike with that small lamb he had
and played with when they were both young and cute?
The lamb became a ram, and then he slew
and ate it with his friends, no sense of guilt.

Or is he like a bird the hunters shoot
for no good reason but to have a change.
They **** that bird for fun, or showing skill
and not because they bear it any grudge.

What are you, life and death? Why do we live?
Aren't these two questions worth thinking about,
or just like that poor lamb and little bird,
we live till death arrives and takes us out?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE PERMANENT JOY
Thoughts are sparkling in my mind to tell me that
life to come is not apart from present life.
Live inside with Jesus' love and those great saints;
you will be in life to come just from this half.

Pray to Jesus in your heart and live with Him,
making Him your closest friend all your day long.
You will find yourself in heaven not on earth
and you gain the high morale that makes you strong.

Joy is not what flesh can give for shortest time,
but it comes from gleams of thoughts that takes you up,
where you live the joy of life that will remain,
filling your rejoicing heart with constant hope.

Nothing but the greatest love the heart desires.
It's the goal that satisfies the searching soul.
Only when we feel the Shepherd is quite near,
then we feel the secure life come from His call.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHEN YOU REALLY LOVE.
If you are fond of someone, you will find
that all her deeds can flirt your loving heart.
You watch her fingers when she weaves some work
and want to press her weaving to your chest.

You love her words and wish to kiss her lips
the purest kiss that makes you fly to height.
Her words are inculcated in your soul
as they endow all your celestial might.

When she just looks at you, she makes you feel
the soft and charming eyes are calling you
to save that look which gives a loving wave
that cools your heart like roses by the dew.

You love to catch her hand when in the street.
It sends a spark that gives your heart a move.
You feel the worth of life and why man hopes
to live so long if life can give such love.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

SMILE ALL THE TIME.
You feel dejected! Why? You've failed a test?
What does that mean, compared with loss of life?
As long as you have breath that moves and heaves,
let all the people hear your loudest laugh.

You've failed a test! You can that class repeat.
Perhaps, a new colleague will bring you luck.
The earth is turning round. That makes life great.
The problem is to stop and bring you wreck.

Let your most grateful smile thank God for life
as when you are alive, you'll mend the wrong
however big it is, you can correct.
If not set right, cheer up if you are strong.

The Lord wants you to have great trust in Him.
He can create the good from what seems bad.
Not all His ways are shown and made so clear.
Just place your trust in Him. He is your Dad.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THEY ARE MY IMAGE.
I love the people all; l love them much.
They are the picture that shows man himself.
They have the wishes that l have in me,
sometimes achieved but often cause great grief.

They feel afraid of time just as l do.
The passage of its days casts them in rage.
I see them in my clothes with their scared hearts
and share with them life's jail with its steel cage.

I see their fear of ends and where they lead.
Can that dark earthly house grant them delight?
They fear the darkness here how can they bear
to stay the endless time deprived of light?

I love their looking askance how next life
will be for them when they ascend up there.
Will they see parents and those dear to them
and meet the life they've always deemed so fair?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE OPPRESSIVE FATHER
How cruel you are when you impose your rules
on your most joyful house and make it hell.
Your children and your wife, even the guests
will forget singing and will learn to wail.

How can you live when you behold the crowd
are full of distress just for your mad pride.
You live the pride of satan when he left
the kingdom of pure light to hell abide.

Their pure and simple hearts were glad to live
the joy of what was good in its supreme.
You've changed the scene to make them now endure
the dirt of what is bad to live your dream.

Who tells you that your house is just for you.
You've got a wife, who's left her parents' house.
You have two boys who want to live their lives.
The place is not just yours though you're the boss.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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MY LORD, I SEEK YOUR WORLD.
Don't leave me quite alone in this obscure, big fight.
I am too small and weak, and depend on Your right.
The path l walk is long and has a narrow gate,
but those who can get through will live the happy fate.

The way that eyes can see and hands can touch and feel
we can get through with ease as it has great appeal.
It's also full of what can give man what he likes
not like Your way, my Lord, which is so full of spikes.

My Lord, l have a heart that seeks the happy end
and likes the endless sky; to peaks l would ascend.
The pleasure that will pass can never touch my heart.
I seek the endless love that blooms under Your sight.

My Lord, l leave the world and choose Your happy way,
where there is no dark nights, but there my life is day,
and nothing can disturb the tranquil heart and sight.
It is the life of verse when verse brings pure delight.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE BABY, THE MOTHER, AND CHRIST
Look at that fast sleeping child and deem
if his smiles divulge his soft dream.
He appears so glad and satisfied
as his worried mum is at his side.

If she leaves him for a second, he
fills the place with cries, a sort of plea,
urging her to hold him close to her;
that's what makes him calm and of joy sure.

Who is mum in this tremendous world,
but a little and a hopeless child,
who regards the world a fearful place,
where no certainty can give a glimpse?

Eyes of tender love are found in You
when You cured the blind and gave a clue,
showing us that death was not the end,
but a step for us to you ascend.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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JESUS' THOUGHTS ON THE CROSS
I feel my sheep's deep grief more than my pain.
Their hearts are bleeding though they don't complain.
Their gloom has dressed their faces with despair.
My cross brings them a plight too big to bear.

Three days in tomb, but then l will rise up
and tint their gloomy hearts with hues of hope.
Delighted they will be and filled with faith
as l can overcome the might of death.

They'll live a kind of thrill so new to them
as thorns of mighty death can cause no harm.
When they discern that l from death revive,
they will forget all grief and joy receive.

So clear the life to come will be to them,
and yields them all the bliss that man can dream.
They'll live at rest from fear of horrid death;
what beatitude can be of equal mirth.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

SWEET MOTHERS
She works all day and joins her dawn with night
for something that can't be so clear to sight.
Her work is non-stop like the clever bee
from meals, to clothes, to cleaning and then tea.

All these are done while being kind to her spouse,
who answers her from his revered repose.
He has worked ******* his high-polished verse,
that who can disturb him will get his curse.

His wife is caring for her angry son;
his pencil broke and his pen was stolen.
She listens with great patience and with love;
his kicks inside her womb are still alive.

Great women , one of you is Jesus' mum.
She felt the same like mums from cross to womb.
Her Son has chosen her and not a man
to be the mum of heights as no man can.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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NO TEARS ARE WASTED.
Where are the men who know the weak can feel?
They don't behold their eyes how they appeal.
Their look will go up straight to highest skies
where angels see their woes and hear their cries.

The tears they shed are not consumed in vain.
They wet the ground, and that small seed sustain.
The seed will grow to be a tree so strong
to hang lscariot and correct the wrong.

Their sighs are heard by Christ Who lives in heart.
He gives the weak the patience which He felt.
The sky of hope will disclose all its mirth
and pour it in their souls as gleeful faith.

How nice is life when eyes of souls can see
the way where joy gives strength to make us free
from care and fear as mighty hands give us
the calmness that we need to live in peace.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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HAPPY OR SAD DREAMS?
Town of lovely days, where are you now?
Why don't you appear much more in dreams?
They were days of charm when l lived there,
between your low river and the sky.

Days of greatest charm l spent in you
with a childless couple, old and kind.
There my father was so kind to come
and behold my life if it was calm.

Mum made sweets for me, but that old dame
Loved their taste, so l left them for her.
That provoked the anger of my mum
as she'd made them for her dearest son.

Days have passed. All those are now mere thoughts.
They're what time has burnt as tinder stuff,
building present time, and him, who writes
whispers from those dear, and distant past.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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THE MOTHER AND HER CHILD
My little child, l love you much.
I cannot live without your touch.
I am the soil; you are the plant.
Your roots are inside my fond heart.

I want you, dear, to grow so high,
to kiss the clouds to reach the sky.
I give you all the sap to grow
though l am staying down below.

I feel so glad when l look up,
but sight can't help me to that top,
where your sweet eyes look down at me,
but those loved eyes l cannot see.

Go up; don't care for me, my dear.
Your roots are still recalled so near.
When l miss you, l ask my heart
to hug your roots and calm my sight.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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