THE ANTHOLOGY OF AGBO C.D (ACHIDESFUR)

ANCESTRAL BEST!!!

A figurine much adored.

A religious scepter and more…

Like pagoda, most sacred!

Sole priest of western goddess!.

Most rampant treasure to rose

The only hope for yet the progeny

A beginning of an end!

Fountain of white waters!

Gateway to the hollow of living wind!

Mouth piece of the great beyond

An accolade, by death immortalized

Reason for the conjugal sweat

Abode of marital sanctity

Never-ending progenitor’s awe

A mother’s child and no one’s maiden

Eagle on the shoulder of all domes

A path rider on a path found

Ancestral best and yet glory.

My incarnate in reincarnation, such defiles not.

A father’s father

An heir

For even so, longs my heart

As though I’m not

I am.

RYHM

Oh! Perfect love

Of all human though transcending

Before thy throne, lowly, we knelt.

That no ending ours may know

Our full assurance bid thee be.

Of charity so tender and quiet brave endurance

With childlike trust

That neither pain nor death knew

Earthly strife, thy peace doth claim

And to life’s day the

The glorious unknown morrow

That dawns upon eternal love and life.

A BUMPY RIDE! 

Now of late were we told?

Would it be we never hold?

Changes change can’t be changed

Now I know though never too late

The frog that would swim the ocean

Let the waist be strong is this day no tale

As is this not a tale though many a myth

Would to extinct never go

Cause they grip to value so

And so goes the tale.

Our birth beget draconian trend

Our compliance with no defiance echoed

Our progress, would it be they seek not

Yet in our progress, their valediction.

Giving us a bumpy risk of such

Look me to such an epoch

Of my lad college era behind moons back

Go home and get your bush broom stick.

Would thunder the voice and headmaster looking thick.

Premises boastful of bushes even for the sick

Would it be we never believed?

Treasure Island lies amid the ocean

Therein, the treasure, encapsulate our dream

Sail we must our progress, their historic valediction yet.

One cannot tell what’s next

Copying the psalmist in 119 cradles to grave.

THE TRAVELLING CLOUD  

Lo it comes from its abode

Which to no man is certain?

Thus, from the sky descending

Voyaging to and fro,

With its vicious countenance

Another in company fierceness

Neither with fear nor favour

Both move irresistibly

Face so faded

As what no man can tell

Impedes the blip light of the moon

Though the creative kept silence

For the impious nature to

Find it’s way to nowhere

Breaking the silence of the wind of the wind

Exposing pelting match of the gigantic dew.

WHY

How many women, shall their dreams come to pass

How many dreams turn out real?

Many overflowing questions I would want to ask.

So you can understand how feel.

How many people wished they were someone else

Tell me…

How many persons would be born just to die?

Now think of the wind, whistling bye

And never to halt

Locking me in this questions , asking why?

Tell me,

How do trees whisper ,

The birds to sing why ?

Even the rainbow stays the same?

How do bees make their honey

And their sting ever for safety

Remembers” the flame never forget to hurt

Can a broken heart be mended again?

Why do nature get so buggy

Paying no time for love?

Would it be the truth why people go to war?

Why just so much religion?

Yet, they so teach to love.

Would I ever get to know the truth in them?

Why do sample start the good thing?

While the other to eat the cake?

Why do people believe things they know untrue?

When you look into your mirror

Tell me, who do you see?

Why do we have to grow to be wise?

Leaching me to these questions, asking why?