Glorious moments of pure pain,
But with everything to gain,
The night may endure long,
But the morning comes with brilliant song!

From hell came an amazing light,
A spectacle, a bedazzling sight,
It went out in to the people,
To cause many a deceiving ripple.

This red gold you own,
Freely give to save a life,
Across race or creed,
It unites every one human and every being.

Ego nailed to boot,
Sow to this precious root,
Your coin will travel,
Far to our place of marvel.

Taking my affections for granted,
Laughing in the face of my feelings,
Jailing me in the friendzone forever,
Ignoring my obvious sufferings in this matter;

I can barely face the sun,
Praying the golden ball never comes through,
The darkness has become my companion,
Not interested in any other opinion;

Until I found something quite interesting,
Never knew I had it all in myself,
There, in the corner of my resolve,
The mustard of strength to evolve;

I shall outgrow this phase,
Loving you is not a criminal offence,
Now that I  have turned this corner,
I really do not have any bother.

If wishes were fishes,
Everyone would swim,
But I drop like lead,
Even when I tread like mad.

Love is not a two way street,
For when you get in,
And pair with whom you see fit,
Then you give and give, even through the thick and thin.

And as we leave behind,
The past year in memoriam,
Dearly beloved, keep in mind,
There is no reason for alarm;

The times shall be kinder to you and yours,
In the most unexpected of places,
Ye, none of your labours,
Shall turn to ashes;

The new decade shall count up,
Unto moments of joy and laughter,
Yahweh's mercies shall not stop,
And his protection shall burn brighter;

Welcome, stride into twenty-twenty-one,
Keep hope well alive and kicking,
Despair? No, entertain none,
The heavens have got you, and don't stop believing.

Green words of healing,
Spoken since before time borne,
Enemies knew but not revealing,
Blinding powers like the amazing sun.

As she turned a year older,
And I thought the time was perfect,
Those four words left my mouth,
Never spake 'em before, and ne'er again.

In the crypts of Winterfel,
Lay the bones of men that fell,
A rich harvest for Whitewalkers,
Day of doom for living talkers.

We speak without words,
Talk without saying anything,
We fight without swords,
Yet we are our everything.

When it all gets too much,
I run into Sanctuary,
Here, I am in no hurry,
To get in touch.

The sight was shocking,
On a beautiful Monday morning,
Greeting the rise of the golden sun,
Was the stiff, cold body, of a mother' son;

Dressed in a hat and suit to match,
He wore, on his right hand, a ticking watch,
Many walked by and wondered at the scene,
Eyes questioning what could have been his sin.

Some, I have liked and loved,
Others,  I have loved and had,
But somewhere, in there, all my emotions dissolved,
Leaving me very cold, miserable and sad.

And when the demons,
From your unlikeable past;

Drink sodas and lemons,
With your present cast;

Know ye that time calls upon thee,
To make peace your cup of tea.

Imagination that's pure,
Heavenly sweet sensation,
You, my friend and companion,
To share with, to care and dare for;

You alone matter to me,
The two of us basking,
In the sunshine of our loving,
Being the best versions we can be.

Almost missed penning,

Something to mark the day,

My thoughts roam very far away,

Floating...drifting...floating...drifting.

The perpertuating expanse of the skies,
The love in a woman's eyes,
Mysteries man will forever contemplate,
More so, with you, since our first date.

The people have been plundered,
And their wealth wickedly squandered,
But the people have not the heart,
Even, to demand a little, for a start.

That all my life,
To you I devoted,
But only rewarded,
With sorrow and strife.

We sleep daily at the pumps,
And get crushed by failed brakes,
This country staggers to the dumps,
And everything is up for cheap takes.

The staleness of your emotion,
Irritates me much,
No bearing on my condition,
Enough of such and such.

What if the world is ended,
And we are condemned,
To suffer trials and tribulations,
And the warring of many nations?

Searched through the ages,
For the other pea in the pod,
And whenwhen she was found,
The whole world came around.

I am involved,
With this girl,
She'll be the death of me,
But do I care?

The day we are born,
And when our job is done,
Between is a grey mix,
Of fix and break; break and fix.

But whence hath humanity's milk of kindness,
The drowned hopes and expired ambitions?
Affluence eats up everything but portions of poverty,
Served daily to depressed, frustrated orphans of benevolence and sincerity.

Death holds me not in remembrance,
Sickness holds me not in remembrance,
I have become THE ADORED,
Not to be mocked, by the ENTIRE world.

She is such a woman,
And am I her man?
She believes in me,
And is this what I see?

How impossible to remain with the one,
But penguins do it, and eagles, too,
Men say it cannot be done,
And women pray for just us two.

Among the clouds raining down,
Delivered after a decade's wait,
His mercies are never late,
Oluwaseunfunmi, mentioned without a moment's frown.

The almond of her eyes,
And the sweetness of her thighs,
The spirit in her laughter,
All make her a rare wonder.

The end begins,
When I take up my cross,
Redeeming my previous loss,
The beginning of better endings.

The feelings for a girlfriend,
When she becomes a wife,
Should not end,
After she brings forth life.

My shadow and I are in great dispute over you,
He says he loves you better than me,
I say I love you better than he,
We both cannot seem to know what to do;

Thus we ask:
He says he loves you more because he will be with you during the night,
I say I will love you forever, and always, when it is bright,
Now, we beg you, put an end to this aching task?

Umbrellas to hook,
The skies are crisp and blue,
Oh, what brilliant hue,
Out in the air, or laying by the brook.

This one, puts a smile upon my face,
That, wears me out, much,
I am in this questioning phase,
Between them, who to take to church.

This maker of craft,
Draws an angry blank,
Shakes off this annoying shaft,
And misses out on smiling to the bank.

He came around every Thursday for alms,
This old ***** beggar from the North,
Father would host him under the tree,
He never missed his weekly sadaka;

But father breathed his last on Sunday,
Mother was distraught, besides herself,
Everyone said one good thing or the other,
Plenty tears to last his eighty earthly years;

So he ambles in like he would,
Sits under his usual shade,
Then someone says to him, "Baba yamutu..."
And he jumps up in raw exclamation!

Never seen such genuine show of surprise,
He truly expected the old man to live forever,
Much later, in quiet sorrow, pays condolences,
Picks up his satchel and stumbles into the sunshine.

But this woman found power,
From the voices of others,
Marching down fear like soldiers,
In the sunshine, she's a proud tower.

But between the high and  sounding,
And the lowly quiets,
Rests a place for poets,
Bedecked of beautiful writing.

On every fourth cycle,
It puts the sickle,
Out to harvest men,
In hundreds and thousands of ten.

When mother screamed at me,
Father broke into a wide grin,
By heavens, I am not sixteen!
My bald head should indeed make me free!

The complexes that afflict  my sensory synapses,
And the torments that assail my mental imbalances,
All contribute to the ambivalence of my thought processes,
And unwillingness of my backside to leave the warmth of my complacent recesses.

Felt so much power,
Although I swung lower,
I could reach higher,
Although I still walked slower.

Sleep is my only drug,
I get vitality, not from a mug,
Deprive me not of my snooze,
For I make no friend with the *****.

Come, spread out beautifully,
Lay gorgeously on the soft satin,
But give me forever to savour,
Such wonder between these mounds.

When you work really hard,
As though the next minute,
Is not a guaranteed linear measure,
And the past is a waste of time.

Tension, in my *****,
Caught a whiff of you,
****! What;s a man to do?
And here, no gold coins.