I hope our candle of hope will not be diminished and if it’s ever going out take His words as a match and let your candle light on for ourselves and others to see better.
Have a wonderful day!
At inception the young mouth
clung to the nipples
With time hands aided and
waited to be given
Acceptable to lay tender head
on solid thighs
Later growth came and the
tree stood waiting to be worked on
till the fruits come down
now for the no longer solid
but wrinkled thighs
That’s what it’s meant to be
The grown with hope set out
to conquer and make a banquet
To the tree
Then the wind struck
almost like whips of cane
The rain a thousand pebbles pour down
The sun blazing red like hot coals
Jagged mountains arise
The grown trudge on
To feed self and the beloved old
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm it’s morning! You open your eyes to a dim room with little light streaming in through the half open windows. Soft noises are heard as others go about their business. You know you slept late due to working late. You seem not to have enough day to do the day’s work. You know you have overslept yet you don’t want to get up and prepare for work. Your body creaks like an old door on old hinges. The creak is heard from the toe and other parts of this body . While you feel the pains , your eyes still feels heavy and the room’s cozy. So you borrow into your covering and fold a bit then stretch.
You head screams ‘you’ll be late. Today is a further journey’ but your body says appealingly ‘ you need the rest!’ Finally your head wins the contest and drags you to prepare for another day which you had already said thanks to the GIVER for. As you get into the shaky sturdy big vehicle and arrive at your destination, your tiredness takes to it heels and you tell yourself ‘ l’ll rest today.’ But you are not sure. Just thinking about the activities after work, you know you probably won’t, yet you hope to. Whatever happens you know it will be a fulfilled day. For HE always gives you a reason to be joyful!
It’s a new year the old is done and
gone. We live and work and pray.
Hoping that the left undone will be
done and life will be better.
There will be challenges, but we’ll
have to push through till the end
of this year with faith and hope in
the perfect planner.
Knowing that nothing is impossible
So to you I say
A happy hopeful new year with
It s a new month
We hope for new things
We wish for new beginnings
Sometime later struggles erase wishes
Sometime close to the end we recall things are still that way
At the end we find out that nothing seem to have changed
And hope for another new month with new beginnings which might work out as planned
So with hope for a turnover I wish you
A HAPPY NEW MONTH
Looking at the her with a hurt heart and lips of Thanksgiving and Praise to her creator.
She’s been silent throughout the almost continuous downpour of words; working, dancing and singing of her very big God, who is always by her side .
For men will always fail, wound, hurt and still act innocent but not God.He is her solid rock, defender, comforter and friend.
So she extends kindness and gentility to even the heart breaker.
After writing this, I sent it to a friend. So my friend, Treasure Udede, did an edit of this same write up; I liked it. So I decided to share it too.
Thanks T !
Looking at her, with a heart burnt hot by hurt with blossoming lips of Thanksgiving and Praise to her Creator.
She’s been calm throughout the almost continuous torrential downpour .
Working, dancing, singing of her very immeasurable GOD who is always by her side.
For mortals certainly fail,wound, hurt, parading deceptive innocent acts.
But not GOD. HE, her Solid Rock, Defender, Comforter, Friend.
And so she stretches forth kindness and gentility to even the heart breaker.
Broken down shattered I lay
With shame I come
Not able to manage the life you gave
….broken in and out
Messed up in foolish wise thinking
Trying to paint it the colours
of sun through a glass….
…But… here it is… Stained…
blurted…dark ink…black ink…
Torn and ragged drawing board
A mirage of pleasure
saw through the scales
What picture could scaly eyes paint
Production: stained, blurted dark ink picture
In foolish wiseness
Held it up a trophy
Some how…a shake…
Scales dropped Pride bashed
Crawling with shame
Make it new
Repaint the sunshine
Cleanse the D board
Fix the pen…
At the FEET
Lay crumpled in heap
Just speak the words
though not smiling
Looking relaxed, at ease
having all the time buying
and eating sleeping and waking
Inside the picture:
storms, lightening, thunder
Running. fire! Rain! Desolate
lost lines can’t call helpers
wandering in the desert
numb picking bits wanting more
time racing away can’t hold it back
deadline smiling winking wickedly
today ending light comes tomorrow
carefree, needing nothing
still waiting for tomorrow
When in stealth
windows of living dust
let the tiny streams flow
COMFORTER ONLY eyes of understanding
see the intricacies
When in deep shadows
trees form shapes of
never seen monsters
kisses of clean cool air
invoke chilly piercing scales
SCARED HANDS still jelly locomotors
and flying heart with your voice rendering
‘Peace be Still’