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Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie

of

Owerri, Imo State, Nigeria

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To Granny

by

Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie


Words are short but joy is high,
Gloom is stale and hope is lush,
That this your trip is ending there,
In Heaven's bliss and prime embrace.

Your love on earth did raise us all,
To homes of pride and moral luxe.
No loss of air can mute your tune,
Your eyes and smiles still sculpts us all,
Till when on earth, our bloom decays,
And then on high, our founts will wake.


To Granny

by

Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie


Words are short but joy is high,
Gloom is stale and hope is lush,
That this your trip is ending there,
In Heaven's bliss and prime embrace.

Your love on earth did raise us all,
To homes of pride and moral luxe.
No loss of air can mute your tune,
Your eyes and smiles still sculpts us all,
Till when on earth, our bloom decays,
And then on high, our founts will wake.

Princess without hubris

by

Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie

I have seen your face,
In a rabble of blue butterflies.
I have seen your smiles,
In the shafts of sunrise.

You are the siren of silver shade,
Who whips up love's red sea,
From your sofa on the pebbly reef.
Never to ebb but always seethe.

You are the icing of imperial taste,
That clings onto cold cakes
Like a plum petal of profuse rosiness,
Clad in finery of brilliance.
Never to shrivel nor droop.

You are the chorister of brown nightingales,
Whose lips lead the strains,
That singes my sorrowful days.

O princess without hubris.
Embosom my warmth,
As we glide like kites,
Through the breeze of night,
That is ever cold and tight.
Let my tenderness shroud you,
With its dense dew.
Let your kiss brew from the black sea,
A wine of true ecstasy,
Whose teal blue tint,
Can turn a sable ball,
Into a sun that lits worlds.
Let its glassy gush,
Stir my scorched sod from its slumber,
To a grand garden.

A bride

by

Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie

All things could begin thee;
even a dance to the vultures' squawk,
or the tides of a lazied haste.
You could be laden with wisdom, or a noise bejewelled with form.

But you are like a bride;
veiled and shameless,
pale but beautiful.
An endless song
should we eagerly listen.

You belong to us all,
the newbies and the pros.
When sweetly nursed, a gem you become,
for indeed, you are but thoughts for a poem,
the noise bejewelled with form.

The night is nigh

by

Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie

The night is nigh and a star stares on,
the breeze plays still with its favourite trees.
The moon awakes with a looming face,
as dew drops on to the sleeping ewes.

The night is nigh and they wait again;
the stars, the moon, and the dropping dew.
The time has come for his hallowed birth;
as Christ arrives at his yearly feast.

The night is nigh and its Christmas eve,
all hurt and woe too soon disperse.
'ere, children sleep with a single wish;
to dance again on a Christmas morn.

The night is nigh

by

Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie

The night is nigh and a star stares on,
the breeze plays still with its favourite trees.
The moon awakes with a looming face,
as dew drops on to the sleeping ewes.

The night is nigh and they wait again;
the stars, the moon, and the dropping dew.
The time has come for his hallowed birth;
as Christ arrives at his yearly feast.

The night is nigh and its Christmas eve,
all hurt and woe too soon disperse.
'ere, children sleep with a single wish;
to dance again on a Christmas morn.

The night is nigh

by

Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie

The night is nigh and a star stares on,
the breeze plays still with its favourite trees.
The moon awakes with a looming face,
as dew drops on to the sleeping ewes.

The night is nigh and they wait again;
the stars, the moon, and the dropping dew.
The time has come for his hallowed birth;
as Christ arrives at his yearly feast.

The night is nigh and its Christmas eve,
all hurt and woe too soon disperse.
'ere, children sleep with a single wish;
to dance again on a Christmas morn.

The night is nigh

by

Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie

The night is nigh and a star stares on,
the breeze plays still with its favourite trees.
The moon awakes with a looming face,
as dew drops on to the sleeping ewes.

The night is nigh and they wait again;
the stars, the moon, and the dropping dew.
The time has come for his hallowed birth;
as Christ arrives at his yearly feast.

The night is nigh and its Christmas eve,
all hurt and woe too soon disperse.
'ere, children sleep with a single wish;
to dance again on a Christmas morn.

The night is nigh

by

Nwachukwu Casmir Chidozie

The night is nigh and a star stares on,
the breeze plays still with its favourite trees.
The moon awakes with a looming face,
as dew drops on to the sleeping ewes.

The night is nigh and they wait again;
the stars, the moon, and the dropping dew.
The time has come for his hallowed birth;
as Christ arrives at his yearly feast.

The night is nigh and its Christmas eve,
all hurt and woe too soon disperse.
'ere, children sleep with a single wish;
to dance again on a Christmas morn.