I wonder whether
     in my advanced maturity
I'm getting sappy -
    a sign of second childhood
    regression as progress … ?

when even cheesy happy ends
on late night television movies
almost bring tears to my eyes

or is it just
fulfillment on the screen
     of ancient human dreams
that we can live in harmony
     happy in peace
    instead of war

no bombs  no deadly rockets
no children lost to famine or to terror
no need to flee the rubble
     of what used to be your home

I guess I‘m getting sappy

i have a blank canvas,
my poems like watercolours,
sweet blues and greens,
drafted in blossom.

spring brings new leaves
and budding flowers,
opens her eyes,
begins to dress the earth,
finds freedom in the flowing
breeze,
while the sparrows
sing like fluffed out
buddha's in the
hedge.

the blackbird dances on the lawn
(always in a tremendous fuss)
birds scrambling with
twigs and scraps of cloth,
chattering about the silks
of the blossoming sky
and the sands of the sun
blowing ceaselessly
in a gold dream of day.

Come on everyone it is time to go
For our soul will face eternity song
As our strength waxes in pain
We have to be a garland in other's throng
As foxes devour our eyes as did lion

Come on everyone it is time to go
Where social strata and color
Of our skin does not matter
For our religion is buried on the marsh
In this our strength makes us fresh

Come on everyone it is time to go
For our dress shall become sullen as a snow
The best company is strange faces we befriend now
As familiar faces envy my mosaic prowess
As the disregard my plan and hinder the progress

As they stay aback in the land of slavery
For we have no place to reside but be in liberty
Our chrysalis body wipe the blood from our palms
As we sing redemptive songs as David psalms
Come on everyone it is time to go

We shall march in the wilderness of joy
Sweating in sorrow as we build our city
For our wall is build for humanity sake
We solely deserved this without water or cake
Come on everyone it is time to go

We have found a new land
Where God reside with love
For our soul will sing eternity songs
A songs that are undying as hallelujah hymns
Wherewithal our body becomes as cave

Our lips shall sing till earth's evil wall crumble down
For the water shall baptised us as crystal gem
Our dying hope shall grow like date Palm
As stars shall show us the path at night we won't be drown
Come on everyone it is time to go

For moon will provide meal at the day
The magic others abstain shall we practised
The wisdom our father's deprived shall we embraced
For our land shall waxed as honey everyday
Come on everyone it is time to go

A paradise of love our land nourish
Spreading its wings as eagle unleash
Eating the spoils that will habits our land
As peace spray so all embraced
Come on everyone it is time to go

We have found a new land
Where our soul will face eternity song
As our strength waxes in pain
Our social strata and color does not matter
Come on everyone it is time to go

Written by
Martin Ijir

children's creative crayons
must be encouraged to write poetry
a splash of blue  
a dollop of green
a hint of yellow
a touch of pink
this being an innovative
use of ink

let their artistry
blend the colours of words
telling an engrossing tale
about rainbows and rosella birds

fostering a child's interest
in poetic art
shall compose a life-long
expression to impart  

a palette of coloured crayons
ready for exploration
writing verses of boundless
imagination

A bush lark in the Greenwood forest sings.
She sings all day long near the mountain springs.
Is she trilling in notes so plaintive of her missing mate?
Unleashing her heart of its doleful weight?

Or easing the pangs of a heart that starves
For a soulmate yet to come for whom she craves?
Or sending a missive through the aerial route
Sounding in every ear a low melancholy note?

From the covert of dark leaves, her song percolates.
Through the sinews of my heart it permeates,
Striking a cord between two souls equally deprived,
Stirring in me an inarticulate ache, never once divulged.