Bilkisu Umar   Poems  
Oh! Gallant dude  loved by all
namesake to the cherished calif of all

bless the day, I met a Man with the heart of Gold,
with prowess, adorned with eloquence ever so bold.

his smile, shame the brightness of proud sun.
his might makes a youthful  lion   run.

charismatic, more than the finest of all Knights,
attractive like a full moon in dark night.

glad to meet poetry in form of a man,
whose future,a promise to race of human.

he wore truth a garment of permanence,
on the morrow respectfully, he'll be called his eminence.

Such an unheralded cascade to repose,
Face aglow, mind so welcoming like the smile of a new mother.
Can the answer ever be nay? the invite brimful of Psychedelic blooms so palpable they smell of eternal summer.
Serenity oh!

A vow I made, to shut it forever,
black serpent, makes calm forest shiver,
smiley devil, return to me never,
you neighbouring, make face a flowing river.
prisoner I was held, in dungeon of lust ,
drunk with sweet looks ale, thought it was trust,
drown in lies river, Poets are like must.
the moment Sacred barrier breached atop Union,
that day when chastity annihilated in criss cross,
then all shame passed away, sworn  never return.
I assumed it a test,
birds chirps in nest,
sounds like kind request,
to quench throats of thirst,
and pen down at best,
a total conquest
today I Confessed,
hoping not be late,
is it really a fate?
I guess just a rate,
at which lies berate.
alas roses go wither,
in garden of neither,
stormed by cruel weather,
lash innocents backs with leather,
slaps faces thither.
sweet memories of thee, are now a remorse,
the thought sick me bed , that last part is worse,

In the end, it's all but dusty spontaneous chronicle,
Might be it dusted, uncovered, read, and graced with unfeigned Sunny hearted smile, or
Possibly Skipped with faint air of nostalgic frown,
At worst ,glance with compunction bleached eyes, Alas waved away with wrinkled blasé fingers.

The book, I Long and die to read,
Reveries are To Immerse in it's Mild engrossment,
And wander in it's Pantomime dream gardens,
To memorise its long strong lined pages, is a sheer hope.
How felicitous that first kid of a reader came to be!

Freedom! Aye, but whence?
A taste treacly than honeyed cherry, but how?
till nose retired from nature bestowed factory?
The moment skin became a knit of drunk mad baby?
Perhaps the day eye turn a beam less sun that reflect naught.
And wits, a Solemn deserter of the glory castle that once stood our proud brains.