Better to remain single
than
be hooked with a devil.

A grave man needs a wife
With whom to share his life--
Wise, warm and straight spouse
To keep and tend his house,
Both making a merry home
Until the Lord's kingdom come.

My soul covet nay diamond and jasper,
Which can be stolen or lost altogether;
Neither seek you the fleeting treasures
Of the world with their misty pleasures.

My heart desire not cars nor mansions
Alone in this earth full of constant frictions;
Neither pant you after momentary majesty,
Rejoicing in an ebbing estate of excellency

For moths and worms shall consume apace
At death, this body, and its glamour face.
You cannot the devil confront with riches:
Job would have won cheaply his challenges.

But seek ye rather first the spiritual gifts--
Coveting earnestly heaven's endowments:
For life's purposes are by them established;
Without them dreams cannot be fulfilled.

Walking in the Spirit, copping
a feel
of the flesh.

Once of a bride was I by a belle informed;
Who, on the very night of their honeymoon
Upon sighting her groom's dower, screamed
And would not let him in for his ***** boon,
Until she's taken thru the script the following
Morn by her parson's wife in cool counselling.

Many things in morals and etiquette do
Parents their children ever and anon teach
Except on this single unfolding issue
Will they falter to them plainly preach:
The act of marriage in its detailed image,
Cause it's found nay on their nurturing page.

An African mother will quiver her girl to lecture,
For instance, in the subject under review,
But will leave it to the Omniscient Nature
To instruct her like cry to a curlew.
So the bride's mom will not to her say:
This is how you should roll in the hay.

Neither will a father his son likewise tell
Explicitly of this duty--this too I know--
How to make his led-to-the-altar angel
Fly on cloud nine during their maiden show.
My pa never me of this nuptial scene told,
How in bed my lady I should stylishly hold.

Yet instinct, that great ancient teacher,
The green Adam and ****** Eve taught
On man's debut moment of ecstasy ever,
And did lead him to her piquant spot,
Whilst one another they caressed for affection,
Premiering for all couples conjugal copulation.

And the animals who do not the wisdom
Of man have, even every diminutive creature,
How each by divine smarts in their kingdom--
Like the fish in the sea of their rapture--
Do with themselves mate with none
Giving them tutorials nor showing them ****!

To close this up where it had first started:
The *iyawo after the pending deed was done,
As it should betwixt man and wife, delighted
Was and with glowing warmth did thence burn
In the hearth of her *ókò with ultra joy,
Who at the beginning of performance was coy.

Birth is by two ways:
labour and lancet.
Nope,--three.

Doth lead to dark doom,
when it is given room.

The Garden gives & takes, & I give to & take from the Garden. I was hungry, it gave me fruit. I would only eat it if I agreed to share it. I was thirsty so I drank the water. In return, I gave my life and now I thirst no more. A boy was in the Garden. He believed I was made from his rib, but he was not Adam & I am not Eve. He was inflicted by poison, & I gave everything I could to help him, but I wasn't a cure. I tried to share the fruit, but he refused to take it. One day, something in me had changed. I realized I had lost something important. What was once essential & something that I could do, I could no longer do. I left the Garden for a while, thinking the boy would stay there. I had hoped to never return unless the boy was gone. In my absence, the Garden still gave. I packed some fruit in a sack, & poured water in a bottle, thinking I would get by. Eventually, I knew I would have to go back. I knew I was meant to be there. I had been gone for so long. I've become numb. I came back hoping to see blossomed flowers , to feel the wind blowing, to feel any sort of sensation or awe. The Garden was just as beautiful upon my return as it was before. The boy was finally gone. I knew he wouldn't wait there forever, but now I feel nothing. The tools used to decipher emotions had become corrupt as a result of my heart's malfunction. I either can't feel anything, or I refuse to. I feel as though I have become a machine with no feeling. I sometimes doubt I ever will feel again. In times like these, I go to the Garden. The Garden's fruit gives me energy. The water heals my wounds. I still feel numb, but my life is still indebted to the Garden, & I will continue to press on.

Though we weep for our own
Departed dears, whose souls had flown
To yonder shores, that had left us
Behind in utter sorrow for quietus.

Yet, they on the other hand in heaven,
When beholding us earthly men
From their abode of bliss, would wish
That we could join them with a swish.

The roaring sea became calm,
The shouting of birds ceased.
All children in class were silent,
The old and the young became still.
For one glorious second,
The whole world knew Jesus Christ and was at peace,
Before breaking out into a cry for the Lord.
It was a celebration,
One more girl had entered Lords magnificent kingdom.

But for one girl,
The peace, the serenity,
Lasted more than one second.
It stretched on for minutes,
Days,
Months,
Years,
For Eternity.
For she knows Jesus Christ,
Our Lord, our Savior.

She sat still,
Reveling in her happiness, her peace.
It wasn't shown on her face,
The change inside her,
She seldom smiled or frowned during important moments of her life,
Instead her eyes conveyed her joy.  
They were, as quoted, 'the windows to the soul.'
And her soul was shinning at that moment.
Casting rays of gold, green, purple, amber, and blue
Upon her heart, her life, and her mind.
For eternity.

She was at peace with herself.
She struggled no more,
And she knew she wouldn't face as much strife as before.
Lord now shared her burden,
Giving hope when she had none,
He was her shoulder to lean on for support,
He was for her to confide in and share her joys with.

She had been born again,
Into the kingdom of Jesus Christ.
God was who she served for.
He was her king,
Jesus was her translator.
She found purpose through Him,
Found life through Him,
Loved through Him,
And WAS through Him.

The world broke out into a cry.

One thing that makes me truckle
At times, for which i can't chuckle,
Is that at death all what we ably
Know or seem to know will verily
To nought come. Our good counsel again
Shall not be sought for in any bargain,
Neither will people request more for
Our input in this or that endeavour;--

Though some do believe in clairvoyance,
Getting the direction of life thru sèance;
Yet for the Christian such is no option
To be considered in any dark situation;
Saul the king though went to consult
With Samuel in Endor, but a result
Bad he had; for what God hath purposed
Cannot be by a band of devils crossed!--

Save a head ere his demise a book
Had written or cast like a fish hook
His imaginations in the river of a canvass
Or recorded an album or taught a class;
Else all his lulu endowments shall no
Profit be, when he at last lies below
The surface of the earth. To die a manqué,
For the world and him, is a tragedy.

Yea, thou needest nay at a loss to be.
That's the way of milk-and-honey people,
Whose flirting feet are set to flee
The instance one's riches out fizzle.

For many a friend ***** and even family
Will forsake, leaving thee alone to deal
With and wax fat in the deep bowl of poverty,
At the turn of rotary fortune's wheel.