*THE BLEEDING PEN ANTHOLOGY 7*
*EMERALD* “`PHASE 1“`
Emerald in beauty
She was filled with love as she grows pretty
Her soft words let them be in curiosity
Thy beauty is like that of fragrance love
Behold!Thy beauty scented gloaming moon above
Oh!My emerald love.
Emerald! Alluring comely Emerald! From far is your virtue cried and herald.
A salient fix of womb ever heard, whose corollaries radiate in a barren womb.
A physician in a labour room
whose aura poise snap a barren doom.
Singled out among stones
The owner of beauty throne
endowed with ornate
Raining love heavily
Reason for alluring
we hope for its presence..
I am the best
To tell how precious you are
Many know you as only stone
But you heel
Sometimes I lick
And sometimes I rub
Then all my aches and pains will run away
If night never obscure the glinting lamp
If the jungle was not hundreds of miles
Only if she had paid her ears unto the *abiyamos*
Perchance, *Pokuwaa’s* claws might cross Nile
Who knows ? Her fangs might dig ridges,dry or damp;
In search of yet the alluring and most hunted, Emerald
Your tales in decades live.
The pride of motherhood in you relief.
Men envy you like tree of olive.
Any sterile arid land?
Come behold the saviour’s hand
In Emerald ‘s lacuna redemption plan
For decades of barrenness,
Emerald!A mystery behold thy womb in the darkness,
Emerald!thou should have put thy ears to obscure the mournfulness,
In a village filled in with gloom,
When the ancestors was rise from the tomb
with an incantation,Emerald barren womb.
You are a fertilizer
In the belly of many mothers
Those who are not blessed with bearings
Those mothers cry not again
The precious is what they tie
Round their waist
Knock at my unbolted door,tonight thou !
That *Atinuke* might wash legs in frozen calabash-
Seek refuge in my chamber,that I become a cradle singer,
If *Omowunmi* shall come with me,we shall climb hillocks where *Iyunloye’s* head was bashed-
In search of the pride of mothers retold in ages,ye emerald;
Pleading eyes,that this lacuna might return filled-
The superficial originality
Speaking joy at its peak with no falsity
it’s in you, making pen bleed
Tonight my muse was slow
Emerald turning the tap on
I blend ink with the giants to make impact
Emerald of possibility.
• *YOUNG POET* •
• *NAJEEB* •
• *MAFLEX* •
• *GEMINI* •
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