At dawn you came
From the wild wide fields of men
To shrug off void memories
And conceal tears of a lonely world
From your crumbs of cravings
You fed me with love aplenty
You’re worth more than Asia’s population
This is the solo tune from the flutist’s flute
With a heartful of radiant roses
Whose scents birth new breaths
And a handful of lilies
That emit tender gleaming light
You became a panacea
To a lone one, grieving with fear
And a Balm of Gilead
That soothed the pores
From which I was being bled
So hear now
The playing strings from David’s harp
You’re worth more than Africa’s fame
I sought for a love cultivating heart
But never thought of your relentless hand
Piping through my heart
And holding all harvest of love
In your heart
You made a cleft
For me to hide and dine
So friend
Listen to the song from the crooners tongue
You’re worth more than Europe’s pride
Oh friend!!
In comparison
You’re worth a poets thought
That springs forth colours
To beautify and caress the soul
Either fair or foul
Whichever that comes to play
You’ve held sacrifice in high esteem
Deceit was nowhere found in thy frame
With you, I’ve been drunk
With true friendship
From the golden gourd of the gods
You’re worth more than a fairy tale
This is the ink you made me spill from my quill
Written by: Wisdom Chisom Love