REAL FRIENDSHIP

Friendship is a star that guides
Caravans with precious trades.
It moves through the sky with them
As with Magians it did roam.

Hard their way, but that star pleads
Brother moon, whose round face leads,
Skies of night not to be dark,
Stars to twinkle ways to mark.

Friends may come from far and near,
But Aleppo gives those dear,
Who get quickly into heart
Filling it with snug delight.

Friends give deep sighs of relief
That fills sad hearts with new life,
Which makes them to larks all ears,
And builds new life full of cheers.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEN

THE REAL BEGGAR

No brothers, sisters he has got.
He is a beggar of lone heart.
So much he needs a loving friend
Who by his side just tend  to stand.

His heart is broken for someone
Who says a good word or listen
To deep sighs that cosume his heart
But still no one would care for that.

He needs a person  who tells him
He is a man whose luck is grim.
He is like us with heart that feels
And his lost tear deep thoughts conceals.

How much he needs a touch of love,
A sweet word that a girl would give
To make his sad heart chant a song
Ere death rings farewell on its gong.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MY REAL WORTH

I am so glad that my own worth
Is not up to some people's dearth.
They would deny all that l have
And rank me well below a knave.

My worth is up to who love me
As they would like my best to see.
If upset, l know my bad state;
If glad, l know my state is great.

My worth is how l see myself.
Is my heart clean or with dirt rife?
People around can't see inside
As that l only can decide.

But best of all's to look at you,
And see how you my face will view
As your soft eyes instil my states:
A look from them my love creates.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE BIRD'S CAGE AND MINE

Your home is nature not this cage,
Poor little bird, l feel your rage.
Your song is not to call your mate
But just to cry your gloomy fate.

Poor little bird, you're not alone,
But lots of weak men share your tone.
To speak they must be with the throng
Or people will not mind their tongue.

They can speak when they say what men
Want them to say, not what they ken.
They must say what men want to hear
Or their words will not reach their ear.

My bird, l want to speak with you;
I suffer as much as you do.
Your cage is your jail where you stay,
But mine is what l have to say.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

GOD  AND  TIME
We ask and think for long what God can be.
He can be goodness in its perfect form,
the perfect state of love, of help and care
and all what we can think of being good.

He is creation in its perfect form,
and wants to keep what He creates quite safe
to move in harmony in endless space,
safe from the trials of negation force.

The thought of time belongs to man on earth
as planets have their suns to turn around.
For God, there is no time to do a job.
There is an endless space where goodness rules.

What are you goodness but an endless state.
It lives in us, and we can feel it most
when we can give a son something he loves.
Then we can live in that elated state.
That goodness was personified in Christ.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MANAGE  WITHOUT!

He is lonely with none in his hand,
For his daily needs and food demand,
Yet he deems himself a man of thought
Though no coins to publish what he wrote.

Still he sticks to honour and its cost.
He would like to guide though he is lost.
What he wants from life is just some love,
For the trust in self and just a shove.

Where is love if coins do not support?
Life itself will **** it and abort.
Love costs quiet a lot to live and grow;
It can't live on thoughts to get aglow.

Man of thought, you've lived deprived of fun,
Spent your time in gloom, no light of sun.
Can't you manage short of love to live
If you want to keep your thoughts alive?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MAN AND DIRT

Man has greatest trend for a clean heart.
Dirt can make man bear some pain too smart.
But a lure to gain the world makes him
Tend to use wrong ways of ***** whim.

Man can't bear the dirt on his seen flesh.
Fast he moves to clean it and get fresh.
No one bears the sight of dirt and filth.
They deprive him of his mood of mirth.

Dirt of soul can cause more painful sense.
You can't clean it by a quick defence.
You need Lord of souls to wash you clean.
Only He can bring you back serene.

Hands are yours and can clean when you want;
Lord of souls you can't control his font.
His unseen work can't be always done.
We are weak and can't that weakness shun.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE SUPERMAN

The superman is that who can
Stand with the feeble in their pain.
He can't bear meeting broken hearts
too shattered to stand by themselves.

He can't see eyes with tears inside,
mainly those eyes that tears have hurt,
or eyes that in vain try to hide
their tears but redness shows their pain.

He stands with those that life has harmed
while they can't cope to hide disgrace.
They do their best, but their short arms  
Can't hide what harshness has misplaced.

The superman will never care
where his support will ever lead.
He sees his heart is quite involved
in drying tears and planting cheers.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

GREEN  WITH  ENVY

I entwined my hand with hers,
strolled among the blooming flowers.
We sat on the grass to see
if the flowers could give glee.

I looked at her eyes and left
the hues that the petals got,
lived in peace inside her eyes,
leaving those fields and their skies.

I pressed her hand for a kiss;
I smelt odour of great bliss.
I ignored the jasmine's smell,
and on her hand l would dwell.

Then the flowers got so piqued.
They began to wane and wilt.
I eavesdropped a bee that nagged,
"Beauty can't defeat withstand."

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

OR LET'S COVER OUR EYES ?
What will the world replace if it strips man of life?
Whatever it gives him for him it's not enough.
If there is after life, he will not care what death
will do with his poor flesh as his soul will survive.

Is that an easy case for man to solve through mind
or faith can shore him up to make him trust , but blind?
I wonder how man can neglect this crucial view
and think of birds and trees when writing verse and prose.

Are they a good escape that covers his own eyes
and makes him live a dream to overlook that plight?
He covers his scared eyes but knows that death lurks there.
Nothing can drive death out; let us it quite forget.

Where are you from all that? Could you give me your point?
The bugbear is quite near; how can we dance and cheer?
Let us be sure what death can bring to the man kind.
Is it the start of glee, or the end of a man's world?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

I WAIT FOR A VISIT .

My Lord, what more attracts my eyes
Than your light which shines through the skies
That shows how serene is my Lord
Who is so clear and pure like gold ?

I look up and behold that light
Which gives me courage from Your might.
I need this strength to feel so bold
And then l love more my dear Lord.

On earth, we love who are near us
And come to visit our house.
I visit You every Sunday ;
Why don't you visit me one day?

How can a person filled with fear
Be glad to see Who scares him near ?
He loves to see and spend his time
With That Who makes him feel so calm.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

DIVORCE

Those who God joins none severs.
This is what the Lord refers
To in His most holy tome
When man and his wife share home.

Birds of heaven build one nest
Where they breed and where they rest.
They can't live outside this place.
It's the source of their lives' peace.

Even when those birds migrate,
***** and hens' love won't abate.
On each other they rely
When they breed and when they fly.

Who can mate and then depart
If he has a human heart?
When two join their hearts in one
Each gets his mate's moon and sun.

This is what my heart tells me,
And what Jesus likes to see.
He makes man and knows his heart;
Once he's married, he can't part.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH  
____________

ENTREATY

I'm a child whose toy has a defect.
All the time, l feel sad and abject.
My dear Dad, can't You bring back my smile,
And mend what makes my blood tend to rile?

Dad, You are my sole hope Who can give
What l wait from Your hand to receive.
I'm too frail; l can't mend what is wrong.
I depend on Your hand which is strong.

I just sit in my cradle and weep.
No one cares for my tears that cut deep.
They tell me to cheer up and be glad.
How can l? My dear toy looks so sad.

My dear Dad, please feel what l go through.
All my hope is quite centered on You.
I can't smile and my toy is like that.
Please my Dad, bring joy back to my heart.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

CHRISTMAS
God's children needed help from their great Lord.
You left Your heights and came down as a Child.
The Child reassured all the hearts of men
that He would bring His love the world to reign.
You took man's form and followed his own style
to show that man to You is so worthwhile.

The people yearned  to know what was that Lord
Who can do all and build the sky and world.
You showed them that He is sheerly a born child
Who loved man much, and him He glorified.

How modest You were when You left Your skies
and showed us God in that young Baby's eyes,
assuring man that his Lord is a fact,
and dwells in all the world and in man's heart.
I beg You, Lord, for rebirth in the hearts
to touch the faith, and kindle our lights.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE DEAR TO ME

My heart is broken for those dear
Who are too weak and kind to bear
The harshness they meet in this life
From disdain to scorn and great grief.

They are looked on as senseless men.
They respect all but looked down on.
All men try to rob them their right
While they look with accepting sight.

My life will have the deepest sense
If l stand at their side of fence.
To show them that the fear of loss
Is harder than the pain of cross.

My Lord came here and cared for them
And mounted His cross to redeem
What was left of their self trust
And rise with them pressed to His chest.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

NO ONE IS ALREADY THAT MR WONDERFUL.

We write a poem and we think
That everyone should appreciate
As l write it and who can be
Such great a writer just like me?

Perhaps you are, but let me know
The meanings you say and employ
By telling me through your clear words
What you may mean by such great work.

When l cognize all that you mean,
I may appreciate what you say
Because your work has taken time,
And you are not a common man.

When you write clearly and l ken
What you want through your piece to mean,
I may like your work; then you get
That Mr wonderful you've meant.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

YOUR WORD CAN BE MY GUIDE.
I am not writing just to gain.
the honour that l have the brain
that can indite some rhythmic lines
that you will like and praise my name.

I know you have the head that thinks.
You go along the way l pass.
It's full of hardships and complaints.
Just look at your most recent lines.

I like to join your aims with mine
and read a word from your smart mind.
You are supposed to have some thoughts.
I will be pleased if lots are wise.

I don't compete with you to chant
what can produce a better lay.
I look at what you write to find
what makes me have a content heart.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THIS IS HOW WE SHOW OUR LOVE.

The baby's in the cradle; far is mum.
He wakes up frightened and he starts to scream.
He blubbers to his mum to carry him.
This is the way in which he shows his love.

She comes and lifts him up and hugs on chest.
He feels so calm, and she feels glad and blessed.
He coos, he babbles, and he prattles best.
This is what he does when he shows his love.

There is no need to cry; his mum is nigh.
The world for him is safe; why should he sigh?
So glad, he lifts his hand and scratches her an eye.
No wonder, this is what he does to show his love.

My Lord, we feel so frightened and we plead.
We carol and sing hymns and offer a good deed.
We may at times imply a spiteful word,
but still we are that child who shows his love.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

BEWARE WHAT YOU CHOOSE!
Change the danger into welfare,
where what's sin will get a virtue
as the face of Christ will tell you
when you start to see His brilliance.

Sin can spread the views of horror
in your heart and tint its darkness,
where the night can hide the devils
who can cause you lots of despair.

When you seek what's dark and gloomy,
Satans give all what can darken.
But you turn your darkened vision,
and life's stars will start to twinkle.

Then, you see the face of Jesus
smiling, giving what is charming.
It's not odd as Christ, the Maker
of the earth, has made what raptures.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
__________

WHERE  IS  HEAVEN ?

Grudge, how awful you become
when you make a heart your home.
You the throne of God destroy,
source of love and greatest joy.

God makes man's heart His own throne,
where his love is fully grown,
building heaven from the flesh,
which becomes love's holy creche.

Heaven dwells inside my heart,
and endows me greatest height.
Love is kept in secure place
where the Child can lie in peace.

Highest skies, you are just void.
Heaven can't be in that world.
Heaven's where whom l adore
nestles in the depth of core.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
What have you done on that long trip which you have made?
You have worked hard, but all has left nothing in hand.
Your mind stands as a judge to ask what you have done.
What will your answer be? Is it, "l have done none"?

But you have worked so hard. What has your work led to?
You've helped a lot to be on better land than you.
Is that a good reply that can satiate your mind?
If yes, l think you have a mind too small and void.

You sit with those who speak about their work and wealth.
Are they of better skills that they could prove their strength?
Or you suppose they are what you cannot approve.
Say that to your own mind. Will it your words conceive?

You've drudged; that's great to hear, but now you do not cheer.
Did you give Caesar what to Caesar should adhere?
Thank God, your soul is clear, but is your mind clear too?
Your mind is shouting loud; calm down its loud ado.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE  POET

If we do like it or we don't,
A man is stature not his thought.
They respect that man for his coin
And treat a poet as a clown.

A poet walks thinking himself
A man whose knowledge fills a shelf
With books, none but him is so fond,
But others don't lift from the ground.

Woe to the kind man whom he sites
To hear the poems he recites.
He spends most boring times with yawns;
His reader dreams of laurel crowns.

His wealth for him is not what counts;
His wife and kids live on dump mounts.
He saunters like a proud peacock
While people see him like a joke.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LIFE IS MERE LUCK.
He walked along the moor to soothe his mind
and think about the sense of life on Earth.
He saw a girl; she ran away from him
as she was scared of kin who sought her trace
to take her to a house she loathed to see.

Her charm was really rare that he could not
let her escape as that would bring him woe
for being lazy bones when he could act.

He stopped her and they sat; they talked for long.
He found some traits in her that he looked for.
His love was clear and shone in his fond eyes.
It was contageous to her hungry soul.

He was so pleased she was fit as a wife,
and she was glad to meet the man she wished.
They went to where they called their cosy house,
convinced that life was just a lucky chance.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

DON'T  QUAIL!
Go forth, don't fear the dark; it's always there.
If you wait till the morn, no crown you wear.
The crown you see is gold, and all do want.
Don't wait, take it just now. No one will grant.

Though dark, good people's hearts live in the light.
It's not the case with those who love the night.
They want the dark to stay till they can own
The precious aim you love and wear the crown.

The crown is yours; that's what your father's left
for you to take; it's his most precious gift.
Don't let the thieves take it; your father's eyes
are watching his great gifts from his high skies.

Your father will be vexed if you don't get
what he assigned to you in his clear writ.
When morning comes each keeps what he has gained,
and you can't clear your soul of what you've stained.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LOVE ALL, BUT PARENTS FIRST.
Don't let your selfishness blind your poor sight.
There are a lot of things you have to see.
If parents are a bit angry with you,
it does not mean they prefer your strong kin.

You have to show them both the love they want.
It's not the matter of receipts and gifts.
Perhaps, your father needed your strong hand;
his heart was asking you to take his seat.

Love all the people, but your parents first
and give them what you can of help and needs.
If it's too late and they have gone to rest,
direct your love to what they loved the most.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

MY PHILOSOPHER AND GOD

There came a Man among the men.
He had no house; He had no den.
He had no palace and no wealth,
but he was well known for His strength.

He had great power of the soul
that could the blind and dead men heal.
He made new eyes, and gave new breath,
the Maker Who could raise from death.
But what can stun me to the heart
is His mind and His deep insight.

He told me what my nerves can cool,
my heart  and mind can make tranquil,
my conscience keep without remorse
that kills my joy or even worse.

His teachings fill my heart with joy,
and make me earthly life enjoy.
The greatest is the least of you;
Who said so with Him l will go.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE SOUL AND FLESH
The truth exists between the earth and what is seen
up high in endless skies where blue space is serene.
The soil of mud appeals to what man's stained hand feels
While his eyes roams up high to see a white cloud reels.

The mud can build a house which can be fit and nice
for us to live and rest and spend good time in peace.
It's also great to lie under the summer sky
and look at the bright moon and shooting stars espy.

The mud supports the trees that feed mankind and bees
and grows the wheat and grass that man and beasts can please.
The sky can feed the heart, and brings the soul delight
as stomachs are not all; morale can trust ignite.

We refuge to you both to get the needed growth
that God has built in us to live and find the truth
which is the two are one and both have made the Son
Whose pain has made the mud award the soul its crown.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE   SUN
I know you are in such a splendid atmosphere.
You float in your high skies; your course is high and clear.
You are the sun of your unending and wide space.
The planets and the moons follow your imposed brace.

You see breathtaking views, but they don't ever change.
They are so lovely and without stint or short range.
You see the earth, the moons and what they have to do
that always seem the same for them, for me and you.

Your life is just the same routine of daily life
that even has no days, just same repeated stuff.
Don't you feel bored or need a sense of deep, shared love,
or are you just a rock, thrown just to shine and rove?

"Whatevet l can be, l give you warmth and light.
I love to give them both; they give you great delight.
I care about what l can give and not receive.
That's what makes me the sun. My love is just to give."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHAT IS TRUE LOVE?
What is true love?
It is the feelings that exist towards someone.
You give that person all your life.
You reach a state in which you lose
your value and all men's respect,
but you don't care.
You find yourself hung on the cross,
and people gather just to laugh and gloat
while you are quite rejected there
to suffer and to bear your pain,
and see a man who has no ken
go by and look with great disdain,
but you don't care as you can find
that all your pleasure is to give,
and give much more
to make the person whom you love
attain the state of being saved and called
"A redeemed one".
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

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
____________

THE LOVING DUCK

A duck was walking in the street
With little ducklings near its feet.
A duckling fell inside a drain;
The cover could fat mum detain.

It waited out quacking for help.
Some people came to grant that step.
It waited long till duckling came
And joined again the anxious mum.

I wonder if men are like ducks:
They fill the land with loudest quacks
For ***, the source of chicks, their love
The same with hens, a bird and dove.

Wise men and women practice ***
In ways artistic and complex,
But they use pills new life to ****,
In urgent flaws abortion skill.

If that poor child is among us,
How long do we stay in the house?
I wish that duck will make us think
That life is not mere *** and drink.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

STILL WAITING FOR SOMETHING
An old man by the street, weak and forlorn.
He has nothing to do; he looks and yearns
to find a little sense of what he does:
he leaves the garden bench where nights are spent,
and goes to that street side to spend his days.

He is too old to do the work he did
ere years could carry him to his old sge.
He looks at faces as by chance he sees
a face that he might know and might give ease
or could remind him of his dear, past years.

Where are the glorious days he has dreamed of?
They have postponed their advent day by day.
His eyes have got so dim; his strength has dropped,
but he's still waiting for those days to come
to lift his heart and find good sense to life.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

TWO  ANGELS
When young, we played sweet doll-house,
in which kids would selves espouse.
I chose Suzan as my girl
as her hair had a nice curl.

It was such a lovely game.
lnstinct made us man and dame.
We were white at heart and pure,
but this game could us allure.

This game could stir us so much,
but l did not her hand touch.
I looked at her curl and eyes,
yet l could my love disguise.

Clean hearts joined us as pure kids,
who shunned what the Lord forbids,
but were so glad, on cloud nine,
two angels of love divine.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

GOD AND MAN

The Lord lives inside man's deep heart
To grant man peace and clear his sight
As He knows what man meets on earth
From doubt to needs and fear of death.

Man is none but a toddling child,
In profound space rotates his world.
His eyes with wonder always try
To fathom his earth and his sky.

He does his best in all his quest
And does all that with fervent zest,
But fearful foes lurk in his way
To expose him to full decay.

He finds himself a paltry spot
Thrown in a space where his earth's shot
With lots of doubt and fear of end,
He sets out to all comprehend.

God sees all that and pities him
As He puts him in that odd realm.
The Lord of mercy cannot leave
His toddler with no help and love.

God lives in his heart, holds his hand,
And when he falls, He helps to stand;
He can't leave him in such hard dearth
Without support with all His strength.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL COPYRIGHTS RESERVED

FLATTERY
What can flattery be but kind words full of vice
When you don't mean the words that appear sweet and nice?
You will be like a snake full of fatal contents,
but you dress your outlook with the smoothest outfits.

Your inside is a bog that boils with horrid blobs,
but you dress them with what would look like showy robes.
None can see in that mire that appears calm to all
fearful death dragging man to the depth of deep hell.

The harsh truth comes and goes like the gas of a drink.
It can cause fizzing sound, and for eyes a quick blink,
but you drink a cool gulp that saves you from the heat
as the truth saves you from deadly stab in the heart.

Fearful snakes, horrid mires lurk in words, but who knows
what you hide in your heart of sure death or deep ooze.
With soft voice, a low hiss, you make ears skip your threat
to bring man fearful death after most hedious fate.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LET'S JOIN HANDS.

People of a hateful grudge
are beheld through one we call a drudge
who has gained no outcome of avail.
That makes him so full of loudest wail.

They hate the people who can have
success in life and be so calm and suave.
They know how they can get respect from all
as they have set and reached a precious goal.

Most of us are not from either class.
Let's join hands; we may pass
gates of grudge and go straight to success.
By joined hands, we may reach God's great bliss.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE  VICEROY
What are you, man, but greatest work of art
in which the Lord has placed a mind to act?
He makes you master of His new-made world
and gives you choice to know the good and bad.

You chose to know, and ate from that fruit tree
to share the artist in what He can see.
As you got all that wit and wisdom gained,
God wants you to observe what's good and bad.

What's good is just to love what God has made,
to give them joy and all the needed aid.
God wants His art to enjoy peace on earth
and asks you, supreme art, to help its growth.

He asks you, viceroy, to love and be kind
and make them all in their best ways arrayed.
The other creatures don't know good and bad,
but you are wise and master of this world.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

GIVE ME A SIGNAL, LORD.

No length of time on earth to lose
Without an aim that cools the heart.
Life is too short; use all the clues
To find life gist ere you depart.

Life is a chance to find your peace
When you a mighty goal achieve.
Then fear of time you will erase
As you the pith of life conceive.

Your peace may come from works of art
That leave on earth a glorious fame
Which keeps you glowing as a fact,
And your torch shines as brilliant flame.

The greatest gift is just to know
And get of second life so sure.
Can we  gain it through what we do
Or through what God on us confer?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

THE BROKEN HEART
He could not be any pride
of his father who worked hard
just to see him in a post
of which he could talk and boast.

He was humble; he was meek.
He was too shy just to speak.
That made his dad lose all hope
and off his mind he would drop.

I met him; he got my mind.
Such a heart l could not find.
He lived for love and for peace
and to shun his dad's grimace.

Man is feelings; man is heart
though he is not always smart.
Don't break hearts and feelings wound;
though not bright, his tears are sound.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MORE THAN HIDE AND SEEK
It was a lovely night, beside a summer house.
The parents were so quiet; the children cheered and danced.
The night set out to dress the site with a hue of shade.
Just then the kids would opt their skills to be displayed.

The boys would run and jump with a strong bent for contests.
The girls spruced up their hair; they would accuse and scream.
Their parents were involved in their drinks and their mirth;
the boys and girls would cheer so glad about their youth.

They all were pleased to play, but my mind was with her.
I followed all her steps, trying no doubt to stir.
I was so glad when she suggested " Hide and Seek".
It gave a chance to me to approach her and speak.

She hid behind a fence; she found me at her side.
I looked deep in her eyes and caught her childish hand.
She was so pleased like me and shared me a sweet smile
that printed in our hearts an image still agile.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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WHY DO WE HAVE A MIND ?

Sad poems, you are not my realm
As tears the globe quite overwhelm.
No hope can come through tears and sighs;
They flood the earth and gloom the skies.

I am in search of hopeful lines.
Perhaps with them my shy hope shines
And leads to what my heart looks for
So my soul sails to reach that shore.

We look for trifles when we write
And serious aims we don't indite.
What is the gain if we win all
But have no thoughts for final goal ?

This life must have a final aim;
No death can end its endless game
As mind is placed not for concern
But helping man this fact to learn.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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A HOLY DREAM
Sitting near and knitting woollen clothes,
she completely drew my eyes to her.
I was not interested in her work,
but the smoothness of her charming hands.

She could see my eyes were much involved
and was curious why l was concerned.
I was shy to say my heart was charmed
by her smooth, soft hands that made me dream.

Enchanted by their unearthly hue,
I began to feel celestial love.
I just wanted to give them a kiss
and hold them both on my dormant cheeks.

They will take me up to that pure sphere
which we only find in life above.
As l could not say the truth l felt,
I misled her that l liked her skill.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

HUMBLENESS, THE QUIET VIRTUE
Who am l to think l'm better
than the others who are normal?
Do l ken a bit more knowledge
or l fake l have this honour?

Those who are distinguished people
have no time to waste on nonsense.
They invest their time in labour
as they want to use their talents.

Don't be haughty, bell, as you know
Your inside is wholly empty.
Bullion can't fulfill your purpose
as its value is so heavy.

Help me, Lord, to be quite humble.
Bells have nothing save their shouting.
Greatest men employ their silence;
when they talk, all run to listen.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

BETWEEN DESPAIR AND JOY
I've lived the feeling of despair,
but is it bliss or it brings hell?
Despair can sometimes tell the truth.
The world has none of what is ruth.

When we know that; we doubt the world
with its importance and look in,
asking the soul for some support,
and trusting what has none to end.

We choose the Lord to make us bold
and help us see what will extend
to endless life when hair won't dare
to tell us it will change its shade.

The Lord will be the guide of all
and show us what will make us soar
through space that has nothing to bound,
exactly like our joyful souls.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
__________

HOLY  STRENGTH

Strongest people are so glad;
they don't care when things are bad.
They look with a smiling face
what is bad they can erase.

Beware of those who are weak
who try hardest not to speak.
If they start they cannot stop.
Their shout reaches highest top.

They live under greatest strain
shackled by an iron chain.
Woe to you if that chain broke,
it would lead to such fierce stroke.

When strong, you get high by strength.
You fear none, not even death.
After success, you don't care
if your death is nigh and there.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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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
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LOVE FROM ABOVE
The mother cleans her child while he cries loud.
He thinks she is too rough and awfully bad.
He does not know her act is kind and good,
but deems she is too cruel and always rude.

She gives him medicines of awful faste.
He screams to accuse her of being a beast.
He would like to grow up to have revenge
on that cruel woman who stirs all his rage.

She does not care but does what should be done
to her most babied but quite thoughtless son.
Her duties are not easy and they need
a lot of efforts with no gratitude.

My Lord, You loved a lot and bore your cross,
but that led you to sadness and great loss.
Despite all that, You forgave who killed You,
and said, "Forgive; they don't know what they do."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

A  PRAYER
You know me better than l know
my deepest thoughts and what l feel.
I feel too weak and stretch my arms
to beg your eyes to see my fears.

I am a man and have a heart
that has some wishes to achieve.
I pass from failure to mean state
and hide my eyes from who demean.

I beg you and look up and pray
I need your grace that gives me faith.
It can uplift my heart to feel
that my wounds are not wasted pain.

My hunger is so hard to bear.
I beg you to blend it with hope
that makes me able to endure
and not fall down as the weak drop.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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THE SPLENDID VOICE

I am so lonely and so far
With passion that my heart will char.
I feel deserted and my heart
Is yearning for what's out of sight.

I want a voice from far to call
And say to me here is your goal.
I love you, but l won't get near.
From far away your heart l cheer.

Here is the voice that you ask for,
The voice you wait for and adore.
Though you know that we'll never meet,
This voice will make your joy complete.

This voice will lift you into space
And there with angels you will race.
You'll hope to stay far from your earth
To be with my voice and its mirth.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WE'RE AWAITING CHRISTMAS.
Greatest hope to mankind will occur
in that cave faraway from the rich.
He's the king of all kings and He'll start
His own life in a cave shepherds have.

He conceives that His task is so hard.
They will end His short life on a cross,
and the start will be poor with no cash,
but He's pleased; His soul lives to no end.

He'll tell man nothing can spoil the glee;
a poor life, a harsh end won't bring fear
as man knows that his soul has no end
in a place full of calmness and peace.

Come, my Lord, show us that one is glad
as his joy overflows from inside
where no worms can destroy what he feels
which is wrought by Your hand of high mace.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________