Fighting an enemy of antique
Whose artillery is rangy and baroque
And whose infantry’s quest for battle is grotesque
Their conquests often leave behind grave plaque  

It’s an enemy with a well resourced war room
Having great strategies to cause boom and doom
And when they operate with seemingly ubiquitous intelligence to loom
It’s an enemy who’s seeking to lock your values in a guardroom

Such an enemy is not fought with simplicity
Be careful you don’t blow the war trumpet with emotional alacrity
Your counterattack tactics fail if they appeal not to the enemy’s perplexity
You simply don’t operate beyond the boundaries of equanimity

An organized enemy must be met with an organized counterattack
You need victory-churning war-room to neutralize such an attack
Ensure all the elements of combat power remain in your war sack

“To keep Satan from getting the advantage over us; for we are not ignorant of his wiles and intentions” (2 Cor. 2:11)

Martin Ato Addison
24/02/21

It looked so green and promising even before its inception
The labourers came with zeal and great expectation
The countenances of some exuded determination
Just to work to achieve distinction
For some, their first encounter with the green vineyard was a divine orchestration

Yet today, I ask whether this orchestration has metamorphosed into illusion?
It appears the initial symphony of elation
Is gradually turning into a chorus of depression
Are the labourers now swimming in a sea of confusion?
The morose faces worn in the green vineyard obviously expresses frustration

The disenchanted labourers complain about structural demolition
Others think the vineyard environment facilitates capacity extermination
The highly skilled brains and hands are looking for the exit gate with desperation

Though majority of the labourers now regard their decision
To work in the vineyard as a massive compunction
I believe a divine intervention can produce the needed salvation

Guys, God will certainly provide the desired destination.

With you I took a sweet conversational ride
Thy brain’s colour kept my mouth opened so wide
Then my emotions of likeness begun growing so wild
Could you be my bride?

Yes, it’s a sweet memory of that romantic emotional tide
In that red K’si-bound ‘VIP’ coach I had a wonderful ride
Thought-captivated by thy admirable personality, vide,
It was like a mental love roller coaster and a cognitive strife
Still thinking if you could be my bride

Our eye ***** met and our bonafide
Mutual Affection could not hide
In the cave of your love I wish to perpetually abide
Let’s hold on to this passion and not slide
I really want you to be my bride

I feel a sweet palpitation to always remain by thy side
The discovery of thy simplicity became my love guide
Hypnotized by thy beauty, thy humility is even a pride
Would you be my bride?

I discovered your affection and I'm now full of life
Come on let’s take this momentous matrimonial stride
May our bonding chord resist any sharp knife
In divine assurances shall we only confide

Please be my wife

Certainly it has become a ubiquitous VIRAL DOPE

Here we are so TERRIFIED and trapped in a unique FEAR’S COPE

The search for prognoses remains a huge *****

It looks scary but we ought to hold on tenaciously to any available surviving ROPE

Our vim should skyrocket and never *****

And may we be exposed to the true LIGHT OF HOPE

Will COVID19 prevail eternally? NOPE...!

Martin Addison