The breath sweet in my nostril a comely gift
Is; a privilege rare, not by right earned,
And sound sleep that doth the soul lift
Out of the mire of weariness, and
Pink health, journey mercies,
and true love,
With the company of dear friends and family.
Many are the blessings that from above
To us come--children, crib and bread daily.

Like a bat bends it down
Ever and anon, my lone life,
By the reason of unbroken
Sorrow that doth with my soul strive,

Panting i hence for water like a hart,
Like a desert so am longing for rain.
What's been broken can't be remolded,
My fragile heart like a vase, again.

She by him like an angel always stood.
Her presence often gave him true joy
And warmth, her words were like food
To his soul, and never was his love coy
In her heart, nor was her affection with
Guile beclouded too. She's a babe unique--
Decking out in virtue, diligence and divine wit,
One that could make mortal men weak.
Howbeit she has left him in the lurch all alone,
His life and authorship to paddle on his own.

In my hand held i to a homing dove,
The very one in truth i did love.
With me tarried she in hope but away
Flew at last, making my blue sky grey.

I took my heart hence to her face
And asked it to intreat for her grace.
Though it did; but it was dry
In her ears, causing me to cry.

what shall become of my life's wow
Since love can't keep it in tow now?
What reason more do i have to live,
When my lady's love has taken its leave?

A woman sans beauty code brilliance
And behaviour good is altogether dead.
Even a strumpet doth possess a semblance
Of those, let alone a wife whose head
And habits ought to be cultured code right.
Though up a jade can her appearances light

By reshaping her natural cast in the forge
Of a beauty parlour, making a devil like an angel
To seem; yet her mien and mentality shalt divulge
The truth. The smarts and demeanour of a damsel
Sublimer speak to the heart than the artifice
Of outward lustre, which's nay for marriage suffice.

Thy heart let her grace succour
Thus still thy wandering sight
All thy promises to her honour
Adoring her with thy main and might

Bring her misdeeds to a loving light
To her ears alone such acts reveal
Let rumours and rancours take flight
Rebrand not your angel a devil

Though thou art the head and above
Yet give thine Missis respect due
Daily, dude, many an alluring dove
Thou wilt often see, but none is new

So *** in the dark alley eschew
Your body from immorality refrain
For thine lady thy love ever renew
Every day her affection warmly retain

In thy choice work and woman exult
Glory to God give for every blessing
And him praise for thy labour's result
Sated be with your couch and calling

Like a sloop in mid ocean toss
To and fro by a wind boisterous,
Whose fortune is past help and hope, seems he
Among the flotilla of his game--supposedly.

Remember i about two seasons or years
Agone, when it was bruited to my ears
By some analysts and commentators alike,
That the player probably might not strike
Home a Grand Slam at all in his career.
The critics, howbeit, this day wrong were
Proven for his fate changed, when the hand
Of heaven which, as it wills, doth command
The affairs of man, causes at once to cease
The waves, turning a seeming failure to success.
For there in that distant land of America did
That ever presistent and optimistic, avid
For, focusing on a title Andy Murray of Britain,
At last his first Open Tennis Trophy obtain.

No theory new doth his crown prescribe;
Only that a man should likewise subscribe
To those ancient proven principles: believe
In God and thyself, and sincerely give
To every pursuit of life thine very strength and
Power; and whether the occasion be a Grand
Prix or Slam, allow nay no rollicking pundit
Thy faith to cast down. For like a bandit
Are negative words; they do rob the heart
Of its courage and confidence for the most part.

Yea, at 25, the British boy berthed eventually,
Despite the storms, at the harbour of victory.

Where will i be
and
what will i be
doing, my soul,
at
the trump sound--

in the church God worshipping,
or in a club others gossiping,
with a strumpet hot in a hotel
or brothel, or with my own damsel--

if thou art yet alive,
when Christ shall here arrive?


Where wilt thou be,
my being,
when
the trump shall blast
at last--

will i not still be keeping malice
with so-and-so Allan and Alice;
wilt thou nay be chasing after riches
and classy cars and comely chicks--

if i am yet alive,
when the King above shall here arrive?

Having the lady of thine heart
Found, all the hangers-on forsake.
She alone thy bed must make
And shake in merriment's part.

Thy eyes to others' beauty close
That thine heart desire again, say,
The sultriness of another dolly nay;
But let thy wife's body be as a rose.

The Pleiades and Orion, at the wedding
Of the sun and the moon, were worthy witnesses,
Like the snow that's robed in a white dress--
The suit with frost and flakes of ice made,
While the hail was in a nice garment clad
Laced with stones and was seated beside
The storm benign gazing, smiling with soft pride.
The rain, standing tall in the choir loft, adown
Was pouring rhythmic sounds in its falling gown,
Singing hallelujah chorus sweet accompanied by
The blazing thunder's rare grand piano nigh,
Making the clouds in its fair multi-coloured
The mode about to waltz; the dew was honoured
The good grace to say at solemnization ending.
And having man and wife become, the happy pair
Were by the Lord blessed with numerous stars fair.

How her facebook friends did turn to foes!
Devouring their seeming pal like wolves.
And some still seek love on the internet
To their own good and peril, an intent
I can't in my judgement own fault. For
None can ever know another man's core.

Hugging the devil, refraining from the Lord:
Filling my hollow and empty life, the gourd
Of my soul, up with the mirth of lechery;
Making frenzied fortune from debauchery,
While the account of my heart is credited
With slush happiness: full, yet never sated.
Lured by diverse lusts; rain do not up fill
A basket. Man is vapid outside God's will.

Though like the kings and queens was she
Born who in lordly bricks palatially dwell,
And like the presidents that rule by majority
Votes the Republic, and like the verily well-
Pruned governors and mayors of states and cities
That live by the plough of the citizenry,
And like those folks of noble duties
Who delicately deck and behave benighly;
Yet this live in inclement circumstances, a
Woman nuts and partly ****. The round-
About her abode hath been and there the sheila--
Come rain, come shine--is lugubriously found.

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.

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.

If it is only *** spirited and jolly
That gives utter joy in fading life;
Then that priest pious and holy,
Who must not have a darling wife--
Seeing he hath pledged to celibacy--
Will never experience earthly ecstacsy.

And if it is alone gluts of money
That do ensure the soul's bliss
And peace; then that ascetic crony--
The friar--who did willingly kiss
And vowed wholly to worldly poverty,
Neither will know also prosperity.

But, nay; it's neither cash nor coitus
That gives the heart satisfaction surplus.
Rather it be Jesus supreme and superior
That guarantees man intense joy interior.

It hath yet to clear away
from the skies of the bereaved
hearts: of family and friends,
neighbours and colleagues, church
members and associates--the
sudden pall of smoke of sorrow
that arose a week agone, precisely
on the Lord's Day last--from the
debris of deaths of the Dana plane
accident in Lagos, Nigeria.

When that evil bruit first
on the radio i heard, like lead
sank fast to the very base of
the sea of woe, my heart; and
wailing was i within like a child
that's bereft of breast milk. I
could not my tongue find again, for
words were as sand heavy in my
mouth. All earthly pleasures did de-
part my thoughts at once, losing
all known appetites for ecstasy

For the 153 souls that perished
in the ill-fated plane crash, when
upon a two-story building with its
belly fell; killing 6 more people
besides the number aboard the aircraft
who, like everyone else on that Sunday, were
having a nice day in their various homes.

of whose tale amongst the unfortunate
victims should i tell thee: Is it
of the bright, warm and lovely lady
that came from the US to celebrate
her brother's wedding with her children
and died along with her family whole--
husband, two kids, and a set of
twins, mother, and two cousins? Or is
it of those who had gone to visit their
friends but met their death untimely
in that damaged building? Or is it
of the air hostess that was to get
married next July? Or is it of the very
reverend Cole and his darling wife?
Or is it of the brass hats, professor,
corps member and top civil servants? I can
not exhaust the tragedy's list! It's too
great a tale to be told by me--the
sad loss of precious lives like mine!

And for 3 days in grief hung the country's
flag in a half-flown position, lowering
its high head in ashes of sympathy
as the nation at large did mourn
the dead and condoled with their families.

All through is the heart with tommy rot
Filled. And much volume of flowing waters
Can its evil filthiness wash away not:
The sea that unto the shores spatters
Of the world; neither can the earth's potent
Bleach remove away the dirt stubborn
From man's wicked heart, whose content
Spits out the fire of sin like a dragon.
Nevertheless only a droplet of the blood of
God's Lamb--the Messiah--more than
Able is to cleanse once and for all the tough,
Stinking stains away from the soul of man.
And whiter than snow shall he surely be
That bathes in the shed blood of Christ truly.

God is no fool.
Though he were,
it's so cool.

Like a brand-new Bently,
he's glad
showing off
his bride.

The very day he passed on, he had had five
Of his clients discharged, and each did arrive
On cloud nine safely. It's the sixth sweet sheila
That he was rocketing, with the help of ******,
When suddenly his heart failed him and
Stopped breathing at the time when his right hand
Was cupping up her beauteous bust and the other
Fondling her *** svelt, whilst his big brother
Had docked with hers on a titilating, ****** flight.
So perished he in the grips of her thighs tight.
I will laden thee nay with the autopsy report
Of how he did die while swinging back and forth
In his bed, trying to make gamut of his jollies,
Since it cannot remedy at all his follies.
And though he did gain through his lucrative-sin
Affairs fortune, which doth spice up life, the thing
That many do after pursue with fame; yet it's be-
Come, by his departure at 32 to yonderland, vanity.

An angel chief--the precentor of heaven's
Unequalled choir--silvery and dulcet was his
Voice afore the throne of God and his fold;
Lovely and fair his appearance was to behold.
Hearken to him as he the King's celestial
Hymns leads that give adoration to his especial
Majesty, making melody along with the angels
Whole, while praising Jehovah in awe dwells.

But how soon would this angel change and be
Clothed no more in chaste grace and glory,  
Rather in pride and pity! I'm more than ye all
Who in paradise live. I'm the foremost of all
Beings. Who're archangels Michael and Gabriel
Compare to me, Lucifer, the only greatest earl?
I the highest and the best-- sovereign being--
That towers above Christ the Son begotten;
I'll even God usurp! I'm the most powerful
Here; the morn star that's blindly beautiful!

Haughtiness so into him entered as cupidity into
Judas. And began he to say things profane to
God his Creator, the Maker of all. And thus
War there was between the defector's caucus
And the Lord's host. Michael, who's the principal
Of warfare wherefore Lucifer--the evil cardinal--
Engaged. How fierce beyond a running pen
Was that battle unspeakble in God's holy haven
Seen betwixt the faithful and the rebel!
Yet good unflinching conquered the uprising evil
And cast Satan straightaway down unto the earth
With one-third of the angels from heaven's berth.

To thrive better in this vying life
We push and shove and nudge
One another, that we can an edge
Have on others as we do strive.

With a knife sharp and scheming
Close colleagues' throats are cut
To assume that lofty coveted spot
By covert mischief and designing.

Yet promotion from God alone can
To us come; it is never by our might.
We all cannot the head overnight
Be; turn by turn it is, O sly man.

His remains were borne away to the cementry
And were interred in a "G" marked grave finally,
Having led he a life of wine, women and
Song. He was therefore committed to the land
Of no returning more, who on this shore was
The philanderers' prince, using his john thomas
To make lucre off ladies libido--a ******.
For he knew how to set their body whole aglow
And ensured their ******, playing the field as
A merchant of amour in the Sin City of Las
Vegas and had a great liking for cards--
When easying up his muscles--and  for billiards.
He's a 6'4 and broad-chested feller; chunky
Enough for that **** business. A bloke beefy!