A WISP OF THOUGHT




I fear for the future that lies before me
And the steps I must climb to reach high
Towards a better life with comfort and peace
That seems to be scarce in my quiet life.


I toss and turn on my softly-made mattress,
Even sleep eludes me like an injured beast
That has found only pain in my gentle caress
And now I wonder, o' how I wonder still.


What shall I do to brightly kindle
Like summer's coal that burn brightly
When winter's wintry touch dwindles
With the frosty wind that kills softly.


I pray o' how I pray for hope to rise high,
Higher than the sun that compels us from sleep.
I pray for the Spirit of God to give me life,
That I may live a life of joy and peace..


©Okunola Peace.



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