I held her hand in my dream
With my nails brushing her hair
Her eyes apple lovey scream
She's a sample of an adonis heir

I ponder at her figure eight
Is she one of d immortal sent to tantalised me?
Like d lovelorn btw milky and kate
Pour me ur love portion, I'll sip

I woke and blamed d reverie
Angrily I exit d enrivon for an unliven snacks
But d liquor can't erase her
hue ink

She curls toward my leisure, My rips acquaint see
Chai, her hair dances to the zephyr rhythm. She knacks
"Em. Baby can I date u?" My phonemes lick.


(Mizz Ylexinho to be)

What I do at night
Is visiting the Zypher domain
To strengthen my weaken heart
By communing with the moon
The reason filled with your thoughts
I wish our shadow meet
At the path aisles to the Royal shrine
The gulf has grown between us
Come wind! Go and bring her here
Pouring the juice to her ear
To paint her lips with oil
And heal her pale.
All alone with the talks
My friends said am crazy
The city felt sorry, odious price
Oh! Am I really an oaf?
I care never to know
But the stream I visit understands
My exhausted carbon grows wings
And carry my code to the tree
I hope one day
She will sit under that tree
Near the beckoning stream
And the moon will open its eyeball
There, she  will hear the discuss


By St. Ylexinho
It will end in praise
Forever young!

The battle field is here at rest,
End of years of droughty pest
After the seekers slaint
With less seekers triumphant.
What the hell do they seeked?
After all, they waited never to see it
Just a tears at their grave post, no feast.
Worth their bravery remarked.
A minute past, all forgotten
But the scars stay behind the chin
To tell foestuses the tale
With their bloods, the land was astonished.
No more bleeding of the wood,
Weeping of the swords are exhausted
Booming! Crushings, the machine dies in decorum
Surrendering guns to their triggers

Won't the foliages rejoice? Yes!
Dancing in akimbo to breeze of peace.
In all ruins of yester reds
Has today emerge luminous greens.
See! Phew! The tomorrow seeds
Beckoning more barns for harvests.
Battle field heaps for farming.
Swords that slain verge to harvest.
Hunting games not human; guns.
War hurt spoken peace at last.
The revolution thus triumph:
Our valours are farmers,
Soldiers for the green fresh leaves.


St. Ylexinho
It will end in total praise.

I sleep so decorum in an archive cave
After the tears roll on the excursion
grave
The Sun though slumped
Tide by the rain strand
Do not think astray, dear
For I'm not there

I become bird that must rest
Low lay on the eternity nest
The wings though they are all lost
All the songs retired to a sacred post
Weep not at my tomb where I lie
You do not know, I do not die


It will end in raise.
St. Ylexinho

Dearest Love

My archive comes to me
Memories of my path of acts
I twigged you vividly in absentia
Glazing your file ribboned with golds
It's more years and six
We bade to say adieu
Oh love! Sweet love
When again shall I feel you skin
Is it still skinny fresh as your youth
With the micro-pores  breathing fresh air?
Oh! Sweet Love, my pearl
Do that pink lips exist fresh?
Little blustery, many zypher
The words that therein, I recall
Behind, laid a glowing teeth
Set of bullets in your arsenal booth
How many times has your tongue
Licked my coy blushes?
Oh! That damning eyes of yours
The mirror I see my face
How many winks of your beauty,
As recorded to me the smiles?
Your touches rose my hairs.
My dearest, I have given you my love
I have seen many cute faces
But none is rated than yours.
Have you ever felt same as I
Ploughing on our twins day
My lay ups, your dunks
On spirit court we rollick our love
Which profers like an everyday neon
God be with us till we meet again
My naming-sake got this
Adewumi *Adewale...


St. Ylexinho

I sleep so decorum in an archive cave
After the tears roll on the excursion grave
The Sun though slumped
Tide by the rain strand
Do not think astray, dear
For I'm not there

I become bird that must rest
Low lay on the eternity nest
The wings though they are all lost
All the songs retired to a sacred post
Weep not at my tomb where I lie
You do not know, I do not die

St. Ylexinho

When I am young
My mum be proud of me
As I grew up with vision dreams
Who knows the source?
Soon, As the foliage grow
I travel aloof out my court
Verisimilitude of life forced my knee down
The adonis pulchritude grows brown
Infact, the worsen was the sore in my heart
I had gone to buy the luxurious flowers
Beeping the tone of a pinky hue
So cool with its adinfinitum scents
But the vessel I want to plant it
Has been won by another arms
Hairy arms! Yank holding it firm
It is wasted! All my chances
I wish it a luminous glazing forever
While in his arms, You dance
Don't fall, else you break
I rejig the flower to my physician
As a ransom to heal my wound


St. Ylexinho