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THE WORD

The Word

www.facebook.com/WRRPoetry [The Word]

He came in a cloud of dust,
Please give the word, Lord.
Collected, loam dug, I buried it in the earth’s heart
Killed and stilled the glad, sad.
For it men, women have lied, died.
Yesterday I saw one, yet another sprout out.
Wherefrom, I see a seed I did not sow grow.

Uwanda! What is it, from hither to thither, wither?
Our watery river muddied, no longer stirs, thirst.
And we ask, did you hear from the barren heaven?
Send down the drops of water, father.

He came in a cloud of wind,
Please give the word, Lord.
I hear the skies speak, what’s the rumbling mumbling?
Floating in black and grey, gathers the proud cloud.
Something must be up, how can…I see the sun run
And now the clouds break faith, in or out of fear disappears.

Is the future bright or dark? I wonder, ponder.
Pour us a rain and the shoot a chance to live, give
For I will keep vigil to nurture to a fruitful fruiter,
Even if the word will bear a stubborn thorn!

He came in a cloud of rain,
Please give the word, Lord!
The dust, wind and rain came, but this words’ stem rejects, inflects
For it nestles nests, warms worms, stakes snake, wants ants but can man?
Arguably an apt and abnormal alliteration appeals and allures all appetites,
Even flying stones couldn’t pluck its fruits, climbing its sticks pricks.
After all, before the sun comes up the fruits go down on the words accord.
That weed was cut, rolled, lighted and smoked. The smell tells.
Please if you please, a drink wills you, the keg begs.
It is the word of love and it is free, see

So share if you like or like if you share, cheers…

Written by: Major Agee Robert
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

Author: admin

I am a member of the WRR editorial team.

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