EVEN WITH A PIECE OF NEWS
Great is life to live for others
ere fast time can change your power.
All the people need some succour
which can be a piece of good news.

As you love the happy surprise,
that uplifts you from your dull life.
All the others wait for it , too.
Let these blessed words be heard from you.

People are poor and are waiting
to receive the news awaited;
it will freshen what days have staled
and fill life with hope downgraded.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS DESERVED
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PRAY IN ACTS AND WORDS.
Christ prayed in deeds when He His Father served,
and in words to ask for His private needs.
He is the Lord Who showed us how to pray
to earn the gifts His most high Father gives.

He came to glorify His Father's name
through that most painful way, and on the cross.
In words, He asked His Father in the sky
to shun the pain, then said, "Your will be done."

His Father in the sky looked at His deeds,
and found in them the prayers that He wished
as He'd sent Him to glorify His name
and all that in obedience was fulfilled.

Each one of us has got a task to do.
This is the prayer that we have to pray.
We may ask for some help; then, we use words.
What counts is our task , not what we say.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE PALSIED CHILD
A child fell down beside and looked upward at me.
He had a covered eye that had some surgery.
He looked so scared as if to ask, "Have l done wrong?"
He had a palsied face and defects from his birth.

He was about three years, quite thin and with no charm,
but fear was so apparent on his childish face.
I smiled, looked down and said some reassuring words.
He went on with his frown as if he knew his life.

His mother came, and l went on along my way.
For him, l felt so sad and had a sharp heartbreak.
The strongest people feel not sure how to face life.
What will he do? I asked myself with tearful eyes.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
All rights reserved
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THE PRODUCTS OF SELFISHNESS
Scattered on the earth but you are
brothers born just from one couple,
who were parents and you're kinsfolk,
who have hatred you can't control.

What can fill the hearts with rancour,
breeding lots of of Cains and Abels?
Some are killed and some are roaming
losing calmness, changed to remorse.

Countries are hostile to neighbours.
Each is building strongest borders.
Why do races split the planet
each endeavours to be stronger?

All that occurs when man's conscience
is replaced by selfish mentors.
They can make man hate his brothers,
placing weapons between nations.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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HOW CAN I HATE ?
You've filled my heart with love; how can l hate ?
You've blessed who pierced Your heart and brought Your fate.
What should l do with that who said a word
that made me feel so small among the crowd ?

The love You give my heart is so refined;
the wine You gave the bride was of rare kind.
Your love that lives in me has made me drunk.
Intoxicated, l look up and thank.

Who can make such great wine, or brew such love
that lift a man so high to dwell above
except Who'd lived above and came to show
how men can live great joy when Him they know ?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
All rights reserved
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DESPAIR AND RETRIEVED HOPE
He came to us the Saviour and the Son
of that great  Lord, the Father in the sky.
He planted mighty hope that grew so fast,
but He left it and went, like other men.

That hope soon turned to grief and great despair.
His mother cried her Son, His men their Lord.
She beat her fear and stood beside the cross
but what could that bring her, but stifling throes.

Where was that Lord Who came to save mankind?
He broke His mother's and His poor men's hearts.
They placed Him in a grave; they were in tears.
Where were you, hope, to build heaven on land?

But Jesus has been raised and revived hope.
His mother has become the mum of all,
and those who followed Him the greatest saints.
Their joy has filled their world and our own.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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PRAY TO A LIVING GOD.
You want to pray?
When by mere chance, you meet a man
who truly wants an urgent help.
So gently try to know his needs
and solve his problem till you see
his grimace is changed to a smile.

When you get home, retrace your deed,
recall his smile and feel so glad.
Right after that, the Lord in him,
and Who exists in every heart,
will touch your feelings and give you
the blessing of the living God.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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CHRIST, THE REDEEMER
The men around You are immersed in guilt.
This one has killed a neighbour, and that one
has robbed a house and caused the man to die,
and leave a wife with girls to beg their meals.

The killer and the thief begin to see
the blood they've shed appears in their insight.
They see inside their souls the blood they've shed
and live a state of sharp and deep regret.

You pity them and take the sins they have
to bear the blame for things You haven't done.
You walk the way of Passion and the cross
to have the men quite freed from their remorse.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE TRIP OF LIFE

The normal man will have a wife;
Time takes them in the trip of life.
They get inside the car of time
That hurls them to that unknown clime.

They sit quite thoughtless in the car.
Their first main station is not far;
There they meet their so dear first born,
And their car journey will go on.

To their great joy, the child grows fast,
Though that in old age fhem will cast.
The children play their parents' role
While their cars' wheels do keep their roll.

They get old and grandparents called
And their effective role gets stalled.
They wait for what God only knows
While their jobs get to snooze and doze.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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WHEAT AND WEEDS
I imagine that there are some folks
who may have the spirit that destroys
what is good because they can't produce
Luscious fruit but litter is their crops.

Vicious weeds, who may expect from you
useful wheat which people love to eat.
You can't give what's good that people like,
so you try to wreck what few can bring.

Gourmets won't deem weeds as their own food.
They will always seek succulent crops.
Man can't live on ******* envy yields
though he fears that envy's ***** tongue.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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HATRED AND LOVE
What will their grudges offer them
except an ulcer in their gut
and make all people shun their way
as it brings them a hateful sight ?

How hateful it's to meet a man
whose purpose is to control you.
He has a trauma whose main cure
is to annoy all he can view.

The skyline is so sweet at dawn ;
the sun is mild ; its rays are warm.
Where are those people of such hearts
whose presence calms your raging storm ?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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PURE LOVE
Come to me and speak aloud; l love your voice.
Your words combined with your smile make me rejoice.
When you sit beside my seat and start to speak,
all the objects in the room at your eyes keek.

Your eyes join your words to send my heart a call,
which l have been waiting for; it is my goal.
When l see you cheering up in front of me,
you make all my world as l want it to be.

Great's my joy when l see you requite my love,
and agree to share my nest as my white dove.
Our world will be so white and full of joy
as our love is purest gold, not an alloy.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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I WANT TO BE CLEAN.

How much l would like to go up
And wade through high clouds that are white.
I get so clean in heart and shape
And have a pure mind then to write.

I long to see my soul so pure
As dirt disturbs my heart and soul.
It instigates the sense of fear
And morale in me wastes its goal.

Clean clouds if l can't go to you
Change into fog and come to land.
I rush and wash in your clean dew
And dry myself with desert sand.

I'll do all just to be as clean
As angels in my Lord's pure sky.
Then l will have a tranquil brain
When down your cross l stand to cry.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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TO THOSE WHO CARE
Dearest poets, think so deeply.
Is this life a serious question
or are we mere passing figures
like a cat or thoughtful monkeys.

I address some people who are
top in thinking and emotions
who can differ what is blather
from what's thoughtful and eternal.

It's not guiltless to destroy man
in the arms of sinful people
as their pleasure is destruction
and eternal hell of torture.

Have you got opposing reasons?
You may say that man is nothing.
Since to dust his way is leading,
let him grasp each passing second.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE CONTEST

Man is destined for a goal,
Hard to reach but can install
His  name in the book of life
With those famous for their strife.

He begins an empty page.
Thoughts in his mind seethe and rage.
Looks he casts on those great men
Who could paint a splendid scene.

Lots of people lived with them,
Came and left with no small claim.
Nothing could they leave to show,
How they lived, what they could know.

Man is born to start a race
Which he should so boldly face.
Its reward is just to write
His name in the book of light.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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THE FRUITFUL TRUTH
Where is the truth all fruitful minds will seek
and they feel glad when its white cloud prevails
to fill the sky with what can supply land
to quench its thirst and give what fruit entails ?

Where is the truth that expels gloomy clouds
whose vapour comes from minds of selfish aims ?
It brings their lofty lands all what they need,
but houses of low lands it harms and maims.

I love the truth that can suit you and me
and brings you laughter ere the smile l get.
Then your high land with mine will have their fruit,
and we both have the great life we expect.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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A NEW BORN BABE'S SUPPLICATION
A two day old girl raised her half closed eyes
to say a prayer of a tearful heart,
"I've seen my mother, but where is the man
whom l will call my dad to welcome me?"

Her crying mother said , "He's gone with her;
that woman took him from you and your mum.
He does not care for you, his new born babe
but cares for that young witch of charming eyes."

"My Lord l'm still too young and need dad's hands.
I curse that woman if l have the voice
that You can hear as You have special love
for those young babes who can't defend themselves.

"Soft handed nurse, l see that woman here.
She's come to stab my mum and silence me.
Please save my mother as l need her milk,
and her deep love to **** from her dear *******."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE SPIRIT OF CREATION AND NEGATION
Our Lord has clearly shown us two main groups
as there are two chief powers in the world:
that which constructs, and that which will destroy.
We have to choose which side we belong to.

There is the side which builds as He has built
the universe and made its stars and moons.
The other side will strike a rock with rocks
and **** the dinosaurs and what was near.

There are the hands that stab and deform life,
that begin wars and **** a lot of men,
and hands that cure the eyes and raise the dead.
They stop the wars and build long peace instead.

There are some people who choose ***** gold.
They can't pass through the narrow needle's eye,
and rich men who help the ill and the old,
not for securing heaven but for love.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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THE BEE AND THE SCORPION
Life has taught me that the snake
which can **** for love of sin
is well treated by all folks
more than bees that feed all men.

Cold wind, you make people hide
and keep their trash piled at home.
Breeze of spring, you let them out,
throwing litter to cause harm.

Scorpion, fearful is your sting.
It's the cause that drive all men
to give you their great respect
so that your harm they can shun.

Scorpion, men have learnt from you
to despise the harmless bee,
and to brandish their worst mien
to make folks bend them a knee.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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TIME, THE FAST THIEF

Don't be proud of youth, my dear.
It won't stay with you for long.
It is something dear but swift
like enjoying a good song.

Don't trust time; it is a thief,
that will rob you and depart,
leaving you looking with sighs,
welling tears, a broken heart.

Have you got a plan in life?
Please, don't wait and run so fast.
Time, the thief, is watching you.
It seems slow, but who can trust?

Girl of twenty, don't wait long.
Run and find your hidden mate
ere that thief can outrun you
and it gets for you too late.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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WHY DON'T WE?

Glowing warmth shines in my heart;
God gives me that warmth to live.
It shows me how life is bright
When we live to take and give.

I find lots of things you have.
I see them just in few words
That make tranquil hearts strive
To read more from your soft hands.

Few words from you make me dance;
I have such words that make you
Dance like me and soar with bliss.
How rich is this life we view!

Life is full of love so pure,
Clean and blessed and makes you laugh;
Live that joy that can endure,
And enjoy your happy life.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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THE GOLDEN MISTAKE
Saint Peter, you are dear and grand.
I'm pleased because you have denied
the Lord and wept the hottest tears
as you could not that mistake bear.

But you believed in Jesus' love
that it would not blame but forgive.
You came back with much stronger zest
and showed more love than all the rest.

I was so hopeless when l, too,
through sin l behaved just like you.
Only your faith could give me hope
to dry my tears and my faults drop.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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PRICELESS PURITY
How can people be so hostile,
nurse old grudges and be quite vile?
How can they live with no calmness
life endows with the pure goodness?

Don't they feel their sins are like hands,
Pressing on their necks with waxed cords?
Sins will colour all their inside
with the hue that man can't abide.

Man can endure thirst and hunger,
poverty, defeat and anger,
but how man can bear his foul soul;
this to mind l never can call.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
___________

WHERE ARE THOSE DAYS ?

Went and passed, but still in mind,
Days that showed us life is sweet.
Cares my parents loved to stand
To see joy in us complete.

Days look like a charming nymph
With long hair, sitting on shore,
Combing black hair with triumph.
She attracts; none can restore.

Where are we from that great charm
That makes all life appear void,
Like the days of that past dream
That no hard toil can afford ?

Cares were placed in mum's fond hands.
Nothing can bring back to me.
Where are your tales and your lands ?
I recall, but l can't see.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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WHEN THE MISSION IS GREAT
Let your spirit be the leader;
then your languid flesh will give in.
Flesh, you are a mere good vassal
when sublime is your soul's mission.

Greatest persons have the spirit
that can't live for worldly matters.
It observes beyond lhe limits
of the flesh that toils and mutters.

But the spirit is so stubborn
when it sees a charming vision.
It discerns a sight from heaven;
no flesh pain can make it listen.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
___________

DREAMS
A dream arrives with all its might
to form its shape like clouds in heights.
Of potent looks it might appear
to fill man's heart with joy or fear.

What are you, dreams? Who gives you forms
inside the minds that trust in you?
Is it the king of luck who weaves
your strange events with mystic yarn?

His wand is long and goes so far
to connect people with the stars,
from which he brings good scenes or bad,
that indicate what will occur.

They wake up from their sleep and think
of what moves them from dales to peaks
according to what they've received;
they are disturbed, or highly pleased.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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WAS THAT FAIR?
A little bird looked at a hawk
whose high respect filled all the sky.
She liked the power that he showed
and hoped to have the force he owned.

The hawk could do all what he liked.
He killed small birds and had good time.
He had *** far from his own nest
where by his wife he'd not be chased.

The little bird stayed near her house.
She saw a male bird near to her.
She had an ******* with him
not for enjoyment but morale.

Her male saw her and got enraged,
and he at once divorced his wife.
She thought that those who were not strong.
Should keep away from what was wrong.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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MEN AND BOOKS

He was my dearest friend.
He went to such a land
Where transport could not wend,
Yet he remained in mind.

He came in dream to me
And asked me what l did.
He wanted just to see
What ways l loved to tread.

I got up and went straight
To see the books he'd used.
I saw books of his date,
By which he was amused.

Those dear reminders stayed
While he had left my eyes.
They got aged and quite greyed,
But did not taste demise.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

MAN'S  FIRST  ENEMY

Like bees, they sting and then they die ;
Men know their fate but can't pass by.
A man stings too, then by remorse
Is killed and destroyed with his force.

What drives a man to this sharp pain ?
It can't be but a sordid bane
That burns his heart and his morale
And thrusts him to drown in his bile.

By instinct, man to life adheres
Despite his pain and loathsome years.
What forces man to use his sting
Though death lurks near to cheer and sing ?

He fears his death but still fears more
To lose his pride that he lives for.
He deems that his pride should come first
Or sides with death when it is lost.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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MY LORD, I SEEK YOUR WORLD.
Don't leave me quite alone in this obscure, big fight.
I am too small and weak, and depend on Your right.
The path l walk is long and has a narrow gate,
but those who can get through will live the happy fate.

The way that eyes can see and hands can touch and feel
we can get through with ease as it has great appeal.
It's also full of what can give man what he likes
not like Your way, my Lord, which is so full of spikes.

My Lord, l have a heart that seeks the happy end
and likes the endless sky; to peaks l would ascend.
The pleasure that will pass can never touch my heart.
I seek the endless love that blooms under Your sight.

My Lord, l leave the world and choose Your happy way,
where there is no dark nights, but there my life is day,
and nothing can disturb the tranquil heart and sight.
It is the life of verse when verse brings pure delight.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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SWEET MOTHERS
She works all day and joins her dawn with night
for something that can't be so clear to sight.
Her work is non-stop like the clever bee
from meals, to clothes, to cleaning and then tea.

All these are done while being kind to her spouse,
who answers her from his revered repose.
He has worked ******* his high-polished verse,
that who can disturb him will get his curse.

His wife is caring for her angry son;
his pencil broke and his pen was stolen.
She listens with great patience and with love;
his kicks inside her womb are still alive.

Great women , one of you is Jesus' mum.
She felt the same like mums from cross to womb.
Her Son has chosen her and not a man
to be the mum of heights as no man can.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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A STONE IN THE WALL
What's the gain when you defeat a man,
or can prove you are the better one?
Lots of people live on this wide land.
Now, you are supreme; will it last long?

Don't care who is better or much worse.
Care for doing what you think can show
something of the truth which when you see,
you will say that's what l'm proud to be.

You will put a stone in that high wall
which when others see, they'll gain a lot.
They will see the gist that shows how life
can be better for mankind to live.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
___________

THE ROUTE TO JOY

The Lord of love, the Lord of peace
Had wished to show the joy of grace,
And how we can achieve this joy
Where men existed to annoy.

He came to us not rich but poor
No place to live He slept outdoor.
The Lord Who possessed all the world
Had no place to lay down His head.

He cured the blind for no return
And fed the crowds on distant plane.
He raised the dead and pleased the hearts
And filled the regions with delights.

That did not please some men to see;
To **** Him they could all agree.
They pierced His limbs, and put on cross
While those who flogged, He gave His bliss.

To that on right, He said, "We will
Enjoy the life where the blessed dwell.
This is the way to feel delight :
Believe and you will please your heart."

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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HOW CAN I KNOW YOUR WILL?
You are my aim to live a tranquil life.
Please, be the voice that tells me if l'm right.
I look inside my heart expecting sights
that tell me if l'm right in what l do.

Where areYou, Lord? I've been in search for you,
forgetting my own ways and seeking yours.
Why don't you give me just a touch that shows
I'm right or wrong in what l search or do?

I'm not so strong but l'm true and sincere.
I implore you to use Your hinting ways.
I need to know your will to walk that way
as what you want from us is good for all.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE LOUD CALL
In my heart, l hear a call
which insists on me to trail
certain passion deep and strong
flowing sweetly in my veins.

That emotion started when
I was young, in my late teen.
Then l thought it was for girls
and their eyes with their blond curls.

Time then folded years but still
ancient sounds inside me squeal
for a kind of love so strange
which no change can it derange.

God's the Start and Love itself,
Who created man and life.
None can satiate what l crave
for except the Source of Love.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE TRUTH AND MAN'S VALUE
He stands so high and not afraid of his viewpoint.
The truth for him appears so dear, a precious stone.
He writes not fearing that his words will make him small
if he describes the others' verse as charming lines.

He looks so proud not fearing thoughts that bloom with facts.
The truth can give his face a tint of splendid shade.
He'll get a mind quite clear of all red-hot remorse,
not fearing that his praise will make him as a dwarf.

Full truth, you dress him in the cuirass of old knights
who fought to get bright justice placed on highest spires.
That may cost him the highest price or may strip him
of valued fame, but still the truth is worth his while.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
All rights reserved
____________

THE MOTHER AND HER CHILD
My little child, l love you much.
I cannot live without your touch.
I am the soil; you are the plant.
Your roots are inside my fond heart.

I want you, dear, to grow so high,
to kiss the clouds to reach the sky.
I give you all the sap to grow
though l am staying down below.

I feel so glad when l look up,
but sight can't help me to that top,
where your sweet eyes look down at me,
but those loved eyes l cannot see.

Go up; don't care for me, my dear.
Your roots are still recalled so near.
When l miss you, l ask my heart
to hug your roots and calm my sight.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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TORTURES ONE CAN'T ESCAPE
My Lord, l want to be quite clean, and live
my precious life with laughter pure and loud
and not to shun the men, and be alone
weighing my sins that rack my heart and mind.

My Lord, please save my heart from evil acts
that l may do unconscious of their woe.
These acts return to burden me with guilt
I cannot bear as they have fearful weight.

When l would like to read a precious book,
I hate to feel my sins sharing my look.
I read but useless; nothing l absorb
as my sins can picpocket all my gain.

So wide's the world of sin, and l fear all.
They make me like a slave, fully controlled.
They torture me while others are so pleased.
I leave them to their joy and live my gall.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE OSTRICHES
I feel surprised how poets can think of
the beauty of a flower or a girl
and don't brood on the essence of this life
that passes like a dream of summer's  night.

How can a man enjoy a petals' charm
when day's like little friends cover his eyes?
He opens them to find himself too old
and scarcely laughs to mock the end of life.

What is the aim of what you live and do?
Is there a purpose which can please your heart?
Or just you help your friends through trivial verse
to keep your eyes blindfolded to the truth.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

EACH HAS HIS PROBLEM.
"Ice-bergs start to move and thaw.
They will swallow sea-shore towns.
What shall we do? Life will get
hard for man to leave these sites.

"Carbon dioxide is high,
caused by cars and big machines.
Heat of summer gets so strong.
We can scarcely move or breathe.

"Trees are losing leaves and fruit.
Sunshine everywhere is hot.
Birds and cats are falling dead.
What can we do to stop that?

"Even my pampered rose shrub
loses power in its ***."
"Sorry, l can't help. My fridge,
street dust-bins, are getting bare."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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NO TEARS ARE WASTED.
Where are the men who know the weak can feel?
They don't behold their eyes how they appeal.
Their look will go up straight to highest skies
where angels see their woes and hear their cries.

The tears they shed are not consumed in vain.
They wet the ground, and that small seed sustain.
The seed will grow to be a tree so strong
to hang lscariot and correct the wrong.

Their sighs are heard by Christ Who lives in heart.
He gives the weak the patience which He felt.
The sky of hope will disclose all its mirth
and pour it in their souls as gleeful faith.

How nice is life when eyes of souls can see
the way where joy gives strength to make us free
from care and fear as mighty hands give us
the calmness that we need to live in peace.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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POETRY AND NOBILITY
Poetry, are you a stupid voice
for a kind of love that men despise,
or the glory of the men who killed
lots of men for silly doubt in mind ?

Are you flowers that cast off their smell
though they flourish on a marsh of dirt?
Or a bird that sings a lovely tune
to enchant the happy and the strong ?

Are you just like that who sings to please
those who throw him pieces of carved bones?
Or are you a means that noble men
sing to know the world and make it known ?

Poetry, you are the hope for men
who endure the hardship of this world .
You aspire for what can give sense
or a target that makes life worthwhile.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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WHO IS POETRY FOR?
Poetry is just for that
who writes it to know himself.
He gets indulged in his life
and perceives its gold from wastes.

It's essential to conceive
what is right from what is wrong.
He indites it in a way
that reveals his inner thoughts.

If his poems have appeal
Publication can give help.
People enjoy what he writes
and its succour gives them light.

Life's great secrets are so deep,
and its beauty charms the mind,
but one should know how to live
so that he can see those sights.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
All rights reserved
___________

THE WHITE CLOUD
White cloud, your glorious dew is bliss for all,
may our Lord give you the breeze you wish.
You float above the people who await
your matchless shade to give the cool they need.

What can those people do, but pray for you
to stay in your best shape and cheerful form?
You spray the drops of rain that quench their thirst
and feed their buds to bloom and dress their fields.

When you appear from far above the sea,
all sing and dance to welcome such a guest
whose gifts are springs of love and send their dew
which is rare perfume sweet for us and dear.

White cloud, the eyes are up waiting for you.
They search and pray that your shape will appear.
You are the springs of love that we need most
to get the perfumed dew whose smell brings cheer.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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LOVE, THE ONLY CURE

We are on earth subject to cruelest harm
And live among the teeth of luck and health.
We work so hard in mines and on a farm
To supply honest living and small wealth.

Tell me about a man without much care,
Or lives with smiles on face coming from heart.
Who does not say if he were strong or fair
Or had a greater wealth that brings delight?

We work like slaves between the huge mill stones,
And seek a narrow path to shun blind death.
All work is done but none the flesh atones
As nothing can cure from fast time and death.

From work to toil, from age to death we move,
Aspiring to what worried hearts will soothe.
Nothing can save but deepest care and love,
That all life's gloom a merry dress can clothe.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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LOVE TO AVOID REGRET.
You can feel a soft touch fill your heart
when you have profound love for all men.
Never think of their deeds that hurt you.
Days wipe them and show you your old grudge.

Think of those who loved you but their acts
caused you pain that made you turn your face.
When days passed and they got far from you,
you see them perfect men, and blame self.

Look at dawn that's fought with the night's hue
and appears a soft view of red light.
Never deem that it is rather cold;
in a jiff it becomes a dark night.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

Please read parts 1+2 of: THEY CLEARED THEIR CONSCIENCE !
Part 3_ THEY CLEARED THEIR CONSCIENCE !

A friend of mine told her the truth,
And she was too clean to accept.
She threw me out with all my wealth,
And tears all my dreams quickly swept.

The house was locked, the wealth was left,
And we both lived poor and apart.
All my dreams in my heart were kept,
And with sad heart, they would depart.

She left me and sailed on wide sea.
I could find her but had no face.
All my hope got her eyes to see
Ere l dwelt in my final house.

I lived with dreams and thus would die
Wrapped in the tears l could not shun.
I built great hope that turned to sigh,
Caused by my daughter and that man.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HE LEFT HIS SHIRT.
Though young, she had a heart so warm,
and missed those arms that carried her.
She is just four, too young to think,
but has a heart as soft as fur.

She saw her father's shirt on hook.
She missed his odour and his gifts.
She plunged her head between its sleeves,
and blamed his voyage without her.

She did not know where he had gone
as she was too young for such trips,
but urged her mother that they should
go after him as life got void.

Her mother cried but did not say
his land was far; she did not want
to grieve her daughter, so she said,
" He left his shirt; he would come soon."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHAT WAS IT ?

I wandered near the sea and looked
At what could calm my nerves and mind.
The sea was calm, the skyline great,
But my lost aim l could not find.

The sea could mean a lot to me
With its low waves and endless view,
But on that day, l could not see
The beauty lain in waves or hue.

I found no reason for my mood.
Nothing was wrong; the day was bright.
All around me was nice and good
But could not make me feel all right.

My heart was missing something odd
Which l felt deeply in my heart.
I could not meet it in this world
Or even just imagine what.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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CHRISTMAS
In Your creche, l find Your target
of the love the world would neglect.
People live in their high tower
and the Lord's in His stone bower.

People are pleased with their gaining
through corruption and misdealing.
Power of the flesh is haughty
and it builds on boasts and cruelty.

Lord, on hay and in your cradle
like a lamb, You are so feeble
Lying meekly in a manner
when observed, the mighty cower.

In Your mildness, there is glory
telling us Your greatness' story.
It reveals and shows Your purpose:
the sublime love's found in weakness.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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