Should i come upon an enchanting
Popsy who by my own reckoning
And sight investigation --      
Whether she is ebony or brunette --
Is beautiful in my estimation:
Of a jolly heart and steady soul,

One that's lovelier than Venus--
I will not my wits abandon,
Nor give my eyes a pardon;

I mean,

One that smells better than roses --
Straightway will I close,
To not perceive her scent, my nose;

I say,

Of such that tastes sweeter than nectar --
I shall seek nay to procure her taste,
Lest my substance and time I waste;

wait,

Whose skin is softer than butter --
I will not even at all bother
To touch, hold or caress her.

Am I silly to administer
Such injury upon a charming Sis?
For I will forsake apace all business
At hand, and make a beeline for her!

Bullet or bullion:
police and politicians,
neither is better.

Born a boy; now a giant of men.
A son of Omu-Aran becoming the
Bishop of the world, who's nurtured
And taught by his mom and granny.

His benign brook belittled yesterday
Has turned to a blessed flowing sea;
His molehill's become as Mt. Everest
Before the eyes of many an enemy.

At sixteen, his life whole he gladly gave
To Jesus the Saviour in college indeed,
And to sin and Satan no more a slave,
But God's son, by God's grace redeemed.

Bishop, the Lord called to ascendancy,
By his favour and mercy, from grass.
To make his humble name legendary,
Heaven did set him apart for the race.

David the bishop, like David the king,
Is truly "a man after God's own heart":
Of his goodness and love does he sing;
His passion he has from the very start.

The kingdom of God and his service
Is bishop's daily breath and bread,
As well as giving his Creator praise;
And in all things he is always elated.

A blessed life is not in number told,
But by deeds that outlast the present.
All men were born, yet few do die
Great; for most live for the moment.

A life of platinum impact like Papa's,
Will forever like the sun in the sky
Be shinning, and hell and darkness
Can't obscure its light and glory high.


©️2024 by Folorunsho Obalugemo

Yours isn't the burden biggest
to have the soul saddest.

He cannot lie,
neither can he die.
For he's not a man.

Love never grows old
neither becomes cold,
nor doth it fall sick
as to become weak.

Nay! not by its strings,
but the lovers themselves.