Friday 13 November 2009

'Styles Of Poetry'


  'The Haiku'
Sharpened pen in hand
Upon paper, pure and white
An idea taking shape.
by Rev.Bola.A.

'The Sonnet'
With vivid strokes, the letters tumble forward...
Right hand like child, submitting to what it's told.
Wisdom rains down, across the patterned words
To entertain with, rhythmic gestures bold.
by Rev.Bola.A

'The Free Verse'
I can't imagine life without my pen.
Such grand designs accomplished here and then
Its unwinding rythmn propelling eastward bound
Like a foxtrot, waltz, or blues and jazzy sound.
by Rev.Bola.A.
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(All copyright: Rev.Bola A  - 14Nov'09. rr)

Tuesday 10 November 2009

'One Cold Winter Day'

    This wistful day smiles peacefully,
    Rambling with frozen color
    And raging determinedly in passion.
    As chilly winter whispers quietly
    In shades of delicate, cool pink,
    Nature reclines in silver array.
    The Moon beams gray tinted resonance
    And glory reigns throughout.













'One Cold Winter Day'  - Art by Rev.Bola A

    A listless corn sheaf leans eastward
     Flinching in fright and snoozing quietly in glee.
    Chilly winter whispers gently in the starlit night;
    When morning rings in with a bright blue symphony.
    As the Sun sketches its soft purple highlights;
    Below, the ground splits wide open in scattered cracks
    And a single raindrop slides down a window pane.

    Then, this melting winter morning groans
    With sweet and sour faith
    Roaming determinedly in the light
    Of scented spring sighing softly
    In shades of time.
    When morning rises with determination
    A wintry chill, sprays sky blue flakes
    As a slight breeze rises
    And the westward wind,
    Ushers in a refreshing spring.

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Poetry by Rev.Bola. A
(copyright: 10.Nov'09 -ARR)

Monday 2 November 2009

'When He Met Her'


Kola met Sola
At a service
Preaching sermons
He can still recall
That little hat she wore.
Her reciting
Psalm 23
In the twilight
Hence he guessed
She'd learnt that
Scripture just before.
Kola knew deep down
He'd wait for her forever
When she said to him
The choir made her high
But who'd have thought
They'd stumble past
Each other, so
They never got the chance
To say goodbye.
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by Rev.Bola
(copyright: Saturday, October 31, 2009)