WE WE

WE WE

Unknown, strange faces;
We are united
in the experiences 
of classes to halls,
of tests to exams,
of rainy and sunny days,
of tears and laughter,
of fear and hope,
of friendship and enmity;
but in Love’s loving arms.

In the darkness of ignorance, we began,
In the light of knowledge, we part.
We were early risers,
We were late comers.
Sometimes united,
Sometimes divided
in this intellectual confinement:
We are imprisoned to embrace freedom,
We are nurtured to become the panacea.

 

 We are departing, 

Known, familiar faces. 

We We

 (for all graduating students especially University of Lagos English Class 2013)

 ©Ajayi Angel-Simon 2013

AN EXCEEDINGLY GREAT ARMY

AN EXCEEDINGLY GREAT ARMY

Because of the missing sword
A soldier falls,
And another,
And another,
And another…

When was their birth?
What hastens their death?
Christ paid the debt
He fought with that sword
Till all forces bow…

But for this missing sword
A soldier crumbles,
And another,
And another,
And another…

They are well dressed:
In military attire
But are armed with brass weapons:
With spears!
Where is the amour, the shield,
the breastplate, the helmet and the sword?

Yet, for the want of that sword
A soldier falters,
And another,
And another,
And another…

On mountain tops,
Hills and valleys:
Day and night;
Toiling, preparing and waiting
To combat the enemy,
But never search for the missing weapon.

Still, for the want of that sword
A soldier dies,
And another,
And another,
And another…

Their camp is ravaged
Each soldier runs for his dear life;
The night of horror came,
But the dawn of victory followed.
Each soldier remembers the missing weapon;
From their hidey-hole, loudly they scream:
“The sword! The sword!! The sword!!!”

 Will the sword ever be found?
No army is declared the Champion
Without going through a battle;
No victory is secured
With the parade of cheap weapons;

Then a soldier returns
And another,
And another,
And another... 

And the SWORD was found
Removed from its sheath; and sharpened
To fight the good fight
And take their rightful place

Then a soldier fights,
And another,
And another,
And another…





Now the SWORD is found
The army of God has risen
With bleeding skin
And broken bones.
Like the dried bones, they are awake:
Covered with the sinews of faith,
And filled with the breath of fire
To thresh mountains
And dominate their enemies.

Then a soldier lives,
And another,
And another,
And another... 

 The camp is restored
The enemy is destroyed
An exceedingly great army has risen
To root out and to pull down
To destroy and to throw down
To build and to plant…

Then a soldier rejoices,
And another,
And another,
And another... 

© Ajayi Angel-Simon 2013

TO YOU ON YOUR BIRTHDAY

TO YOU ON YOUR BIRTHDAY 

It’s your glorious day!
Shine like the sun ray.

It’s your lustrous birth,
We are celebrating in mirth.

It’s your fruitful season,
Our faces glee; you’re the reason.

It’s your precious time,
Once again in your prime

It’s your victorious moment
Your hour of fulfillment

With sweet melodies, we will arise;
Singing songs; no more cries

We will radiate joy and charisma
Because today you’re a year older

It’s your special day! 
Rejoice! Happy birthday…

© Ajayi Angel-Simon 2013 

TOOTH BRUSH

            TOOTH BRUSH (A poem)

I didn’t scoff the grub;
for pleasure and sanitary I scrub.
To doff trite piece of food
is my calling from the wood

When man meets assorted meat,
I grieve for the chewing treat.
I’m man’s aurora friend.
Like the Ultimate man, to the very end
I search for decayed morsel particle;
to restore man’s fresh breath is my hustle.

Cast me away and man’s teeth will hide;
his tongue won’t glide – that’s my pride.
I’m his quotidian servant-master
adorned with creamy butter
to evict stinking gums from vocal isle.
Never weary, I renew his oral smile.

 

© Ajayi Angel-Simon 2013