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by st.ifa
Rated: ASR · User Poll · Other · #1729516
a poem in iambic tetrametre
Poll Question:
AN IDEA-RUSH

1. An idea-rush comes raining down,
Full drowning us with liquid crown,
Slow wetting us with new-found-truth
Like blooming roses in their youth.
An idea-rush, comes blessing us,
In worldly rounds without a loss;
In earthen walls of mighty frame,
In heaven’s joy of priest-like name.
An idea rush from jolly heads,
Keeps pouring love on rosy beds.

2. Atose’s head with no compare
Came breeding fruits like fruitful pear.
All things pure just are firmly placed
As olden songs with lyrics laced.
When sweetest rains are done and full,
We swim like king in lux’ry pool;
To pools of yore with knowledge blest,
Like myriad shinning stars at best.
Pour down the rains of heaven’s love,
With rays of truth with God’s approve.

3. The tale of donkey’s lorn shadow,
Writ loud upon our lean sorrow;
When we dare walk the path of tears,
Lane lonely lane with million jeers.
In days of yore, not far removed,
We cried with baby’s honest zeal
And cut our weal with bloody deal.
In forgot days we sought your face,
For all knew was lonely place.

4. A place accurst removed from truth,
Like stony hearts without some ruth.
From assess to swift horses move;
Soar high to success sweet above.
Climb pallid strings to verdant rains,
To kingly thrones with sapient reigns.
Move far apart from angry lands,
And live like king in diamond sands.
Live far above accurst rude seas
And live in greens where pains decrease.

5. Your idea-rush did fill us so,
Like winds of love with gentle blow.
We see transformers dance with glee
And fireflies in sweet gentle lee.
We know you well in talks of peace,
That lace our necks with comely fleece.
When stony heads came in sad time,
You took your time to tame their crime
When thirst grew strong in parchy throats,
You poured your eau like some sweet oats,

6. An idea-rush comes blessing lives,
Full soaking us with joyous jives,
When day heralds a new born fate,
In groomed Atose’s faithful state.
Untouched by claws of forgot Fiend,
He walks with love – a zestful friend.
We read his print in golden tar,
Without the stains of worldly scar.
Your idea rush comes reigning down,
Full prinking me with witty gown

(Olomu A. O.O St.Ifa)

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      it is completely fair
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