That which at a moment's pulse

Would thwart the will, and bid it

Wish or seek the tyrant's hand

While tinsels and plums rot in vain.

Who feels it knows - when smiles turn to brine...

And  scowls  the angry port must drape

Where from the sun in haste had set adrift.

Of different shades and tones confirmed

The sudden stitch - the jab - the stab.....

The lazy rodent gnawing the trunk:

Oh how the maiden she buckles so

While the fruit of life she bears,

And the crowns of men anointed thus

With the load of daily cares!

Though some the bewitching hand may rile-

For life's entangled web of woes:

The bane of such to one resorts

Who at the creeper's behest, to sin conspired

And the evil eye forth no shame would know

Her unyielding aspect, our constant foe

Rattling cages, bruising souls down to the bone.......

Our charms and potions all  rendered naught

The vilest of which no peace accords!

Yet to the faithful succor prevails and hope abides

To all who the promised rapture await

When all that was written will come to pass.

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi
Click here for more poems www.echoesofdylan.blogspot.com

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