Not a fine writer at the slightest. Just a minor upgrade from scribbling on my phone’s note – here.
FAIR ONE
Anything sweet is a delight to her palate,
From ripen mangoes to glaced pastries.
Apparels are hues of pastels and white;
From lavendar tops to ivory and blue denims-
So beautifully basked and adorn.
Face so fierce yet pleasant, you’d glance a few, that’s for sure!
Blend of a Fox and a Coney,
Embedded with vixen eyes and sharp edges of a bunny.
The small flick she does for her eyes,
Are something which he so dearly indulge in.
Nourishing each other’s cravings;
Exhibiting their bruised souls and
Merging their contemplations became a ritual.
His affection and Her warmth,
His adoration and Her tenderness,
His naiveness and Her competence-
Became conclusive strokes to their knobby ride.
“…because there is one great truth on this planet: whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it’s because that desire originated in the soul of the Universe. It’s your mission on Earth”
– The Alchemist
THIRD
By a Stream of flowing cheese and blueberries,
Stands our Cottage in our own realm of Daisies.
There, our aches and troubles shall cease.
And such a place of abundant bliss-
Is where my heart always will be.
.
When dawn breaks and the air’s thick with mist,
I shall wake to see your face knowing you’d stay.
And place the softest kiss on those rosy cheeks,
On that fragrance filled morning of May.
The Mortal Goodbye
Shut our eyes one day, we will.
Escape with things unattainable one day, I shall.
And then can I knit my dreams of sorrowful webs,
Lamenting the death of my End.
.
Before you lose me from your sight,
One thing I must ask of you.
Was our alliance that unworthy of a fight?
Or was I such a sore of a view?
.
In this chaos filled of a place,
Where everyone seems to be at race.
Standstill, would you please?
To distinguish the thrivers from the rest.
.
He that is miserly with his words,
And harks more than he utters.
He will be heard more.
But the contrast of him; shall find the gutter.
.
Make your peace with the ones you disagree.
Hug the foes of your forefathers.
Then will your eyes finally see-
That we are all nothing short of Lovers.
.
Bid your Mortal Goodbyes everyday,
As there isn’t a hint of your final exit.
Grant them the permit to celebrate the day–
The day, He finally calls you Home.
Certainty of Illusions
Of what is simpler and pleasant,
Or ‘The Stone’ at the rainbow’s end is what you want.
.
Fairies are of the meadows’ tale-
Skin, either blushy or pale.
They said, “She will grant you your heart’s desire.”
But will not melt your icy heart or douse the fire.
.
Treading behind the gentle breeze,
With a grin and a bagful of joy.
Brushing against thorns looking fierce,
Tumbling down the grassy slope like that of Illinois.
.
Do you yawn or fancy my artistry ?
Or are you just a farer of minute vision and pluck?
You see! I’ve been at it, refining it with every try,
Howbeit its all but futile without a sprinkle of favours and luck.
The Price of Salvation
“Save us all”, they cried.
“Give us the criminal instead”, they roared.
“Forgive them Father”, He beseeched.
Breathing His last-
Bestowing them, the very Salvation they’re all in-eligible of.
The Pending Adieu
Take me to the man with knowledge of such glamour.
And to you whom I once called, “mi amor”-
’tis hereby proclaimed that no soul knoweth not as to whom one shall wed.
As your lean left eyebrow twitched, “Your face appears Zoomed”, you said.
.
Many a crossroads I’d mastered and dissected,
Wanting no more of such intimacy and warmth.
But our tale was one carefully attended to and gracefully curated;
Flourishing as we advance, indulging in ‘not so lavish dates’ every month.
.
Let’s reconvene when we meet on the other side; then I shall pay my dues.
But for now, I am afraid this is where i bid my ‘pending adieu’.
Bona fide
Observe, listen- these are strange days.
Sniffy sniff the fake ones out!
Tendency to gorge the eyes out,
But Spiritual vision will remain intake.
There’s so much more than one can take,
So Consistency sways you from throwing up.
Not the ones in the front, leading the parade.
Embrace the tenderfoot at the back with bloodied eyes and bruised hearts.
They are the bona fide ones.
Halt Not
Why the long face?
Why the constant regrets?
Why let past misfortune haunt your today?
It simply wasn’t apposite for you as of yet;
But it is gonna propel right back at you, stay hopeful.
Even if this counsel is imprecise!
Lift those brooding brows-
Hung heavy with the notion that you are clamped right where you’re stationed.
The ripples they caused,
Aren’t they the reason for your smooth sail and the final breakthrough?
Life in Him
Silhouette of that force draweth near.
“Never making out of this one”, he sigh.
Boredom could’ve never struck so beautifully.
The cord of recognition He wanted for him was plucked at.
Off course he once was but
the Book that holds the map to Him,
has always been right under his nose.
Haven’t barely scraped the surface to unearth that Compassion.
Yet one thing’s unwavered;
“Him defeating death means boundless eternal life for all.”
– All Glory to Him
Tranquility
Body to rot,
Brainy brains to deteriorate,
a lil’ too less for us to cherish, if you ask me!
But again, who are we to even strike
a bargain…hmm?
Think! Ponder!
What is your one Insanity you mask your reality with?
‘Cause The Masquerade Ball doesn’t last till the morn’
Sneak out right, or watch tranquility ebb away lazily over the eastern Horizon…
Isaac Awungshi 