*A King had once been a Heir*
Back in the days in the land of birth
In the nine-tease precisely was the birth of all births
The sky would never be a Peter to its obeisance
And the moon would never be a Judahs to its renaissance
The stars will always remember another was added to them
And the clouds would never forget their clamouring for this gem.
In the inner chamber of panting oven
So hot for mother like coven
While some heads were running helter-skelter
Some were praying here and there
This lad must have intruded mother’s monthly visitor
And silence walked around the corridor.
And as we heard the song sang by the child
We could depict wen! wen!! from the lad
And the brains of creativity pointed the lyrics out
When shall I wine and dine in creativity to impact?
When shall I swim in dexterity to change the change?
And we see that as calling and not plague.
They look, they weren’t sure of the befitting name
What manner of name can be given to this sage?
So far, so good
They finalised to name him *Jude*
For they have seen the future
He will be a *J*ustified *U*ndiluted *D*exterious *E*xtraordinary creature.
He was once a heir, now a king
In his heart, creativity sings
In his pen, dexterity walks
In his words, intelligence talks
May we call him a murderer
For his pen bleeds like a sorcerer.
*From the globe of PENAWD, I CELEBRATE MY GREAT AND HELPFUL BOSS, OJINDU CHIMAOBI JUDE.
MORE BREATH IN JESUS NAME.
LONG LIFE AND PROSPERITY.
HIP! HIP!! HIP!!! HURRAY.
HOW OLD ARE YOU NOW?
KEEP BOUNCING IN THE LORD, BOSS.
AS WRITTEN BY OYEDOKUN IBUKUN S.
…priceless pen perceiving beyond boundary
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