A POT
Water in a cooled pot
A pot could never temper
The well water without heat
Water in a porcline jar
The glaze jug could never stain
With the sea water in spraying.
Antagonized the rest to be
Overzealous in devotion rites
The protagony is in psychic races.
Both day and night are
The scene of actions in pages.
To me the tasks done in the day
Touch up and finish up in dreams.
In a second an action is done
The Sun never rises to sets
The paces are named to note.
Who gave birth to me
A body in a pace to a body,
It means my name is a note
No one who I was and mine.
Water in a cooler
The source is never tempered.
Just an old liquid in a new home
The bottles may break away
The water may shrink or vapour
All ways back to the coolest home.
The right ways may be lefted
The wrong roads may be niced
The wind is from all ways.
If you know a little be grateful
Gratefulness is the remains.
If you vess a lot in wholeness
The little remains is gratitude.
Totality is a full of the kalima
Rainfall good to deter at end.
A care of an odium is real
To man a podium to power.
Idioms live in an adage
The caucus of the sage-sagas.
On Sandy ways the marks will
Soon and later be vanished
But a Forrester evidence.
A LOVE
Hakimi I just like your courage
All are two ways forward or backward.
You ply on straight path
In stead of rounder in divorcing.
Only death can devour your devotion
The bride needs a call to your prayers.
There are two ways to tow
A gain in a way is lost to other way.
The mother and wife are opposites
The past of a mother atones the present
A paste can be tasted
As a story tells a lot of the yesters.
Sweets and cakes are a bride life
But the pains and perses in the past.
A lessons to grooms
Is broom that all times be with sweepers
For the brides to enjoy his offsprings
The offerings are hard to dash out.
A marriage is a journey of life
It seems a serious stage of seekers
Like the hunters in the jungles of aliens
The promises are like the oaths.
The journey may plan but the jungle
The ways may be tedious.
The marriage is the tasks of ladies
But the men are the matches starter.
No magic in marriage
But the management of life.
No miracles in love
But an acceptability of the nature.
A flowers picker in backyard
Where varieties of beauties
He picked a side and a far
He stepped on some of the nature.
You are parts of my story and my book.
I always appreciate but I know the deep of love
This seal my mouth to my heart
I could never say I love you
Appreciation is a best to a dearest one.
Keep it dear. Olumide.
See a pot made out of clay
Or you moulded a metal to be mortal
All are circular in a dot.
The more i see another precious gifts
The more I cherish my destiny.
A bird in hands worth many in forest
The devil in home holiest to hoteliers
Just as a contrast of heaven and earth
Death is never a sleeping jams.
If the pot broke
The relics will be there for traces.
I know love to be a jointer
To make a desirable model.
Transition as a tradition of the nitters
Bitterness may never a greatness
Just as a love in wholeness.
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