Tall dreams hath wroth
Soul booster of every failures.
Backsliders with scowled faces
The day before
Takes bride in defeat
In the synagogue of their wishes
They call it
‘Our valley of prosperity.
Ally to the fatherless
Survivors rambled around them
Perhaps a barren will smile
Her off spring are promised agape love.
Candle light for the night
A well trimmed gray hair
Leans on a strong shoulder
He laughs at intervals
As he throws down his sadness.
Any crippled could run
Through the beach
And even walk down the aisle
Accompanied to say |Yes I do!”
The long awaited future
The promised land
Where stranger honorably
© All rights Reserved. By Johnson O.J. Arumona. 2004
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