sonnets

FIFTY SEASONS FOR NIGERIA



When fifty seasons call from regions fine,

Remember we the days that slept with time,

Full fifty seasons blest with sheep and kine,

Full fifty seasons robed in happiest clime.

How comes some jeering teeth to mock our pride,

Pretending much to do the doctor’s work?

How comes some lips do prick our weaker side,

Despairing us with all that demons lurk?

Nigeria is blest full in plenteous things –

A country soused with all that hearts would seek:

Some happy souls that fly with zestful wings,

A fruitful land that yields with heaven’s peak.

Come happy children, let us bless our land,

Let’s print her name with pride in diamond sand.





Flower Birds (Uncle Emmanuel Kpenose’s  Wedding)



If flowers were birds , their plumes would light the sky,

Like prettiest of priced pics in an Arts’ dome.

If flowers could fly their hue would cure our sigh

Enfolding us with glories of prime Rome .

If petals were sweet feathers of pure love,

The sky would sing the tunes of sweetest joy,

The earth would smile as feathers from above

Drop as pure golden flakes to cure its ploy.

But flowers are birds in the joy of our souls.

Like darts of joy that pierce all our sorrows,

So does sweet wedlock heal the feat of soles,

Yes flowers are birds: the dove, sunbirds, swallows,

In sweet connubial bliss we dance and shine,

Like flower birds of full joy that sing tunes fine.



Uncle Kpenose’s Death



When darkness fell, we moped at Night’s wrong side,

When sorrows swell the unctions of our souls,

Full joyous dins from fitful souls glide.

The nightlife of our souls moped in strange roles,

Embracing filths from mouths of  rumours cruel.

Like fretful tale told by a timid mouth

Did wanton blades of woe cast their cruel duel.

We are North-birds, lost in the sojourn South.

The darkness of our souls were flakes of light.

Light beams the joy of our sad lives with smile.

Like spatters of plum rain in happy fright,

Did its rich string seer our teared-face with rile.

The joy of souls are flakes of love divine,

Sweet dinning that ring with smooth jingles fine



Augustine Oritseweyinmi Oghanrandukun Olomu  (st Ifa)