FORGIVE ME WHEN I WHINE By Amazu Donaldmario Ifeanyi
From whence shall my reverend reverie tread, With thousand sprouts begotten of his morn, Which stood naked; graced with cheerful forlorn, Upon the earth that smiles with scorching sun, And melted spleen, wherefrom shall he dare run. Along this dreaded path that goes sowhere, With fraughts impending, whispers of desire, Which chided more its trods in granded ire, The birds nowhere and songless might whistle Which might smoothen this path that goes nowhere. Comfort me o that cares, like healing wings Of time upon which my hope therefor lies, May down June this lines still shall i sing, Might soothe my spleen or might as blue- waved skies, Which stand and lay when weather bids it be. Forgive me when i whine to eastern winds, So west in latticed age has therefor been, From lands far down that begotted me so, The breast that fed my young age posses foe, So winds that caressed then my dearly spleen. A gleam and sits to set the mind arace, Or heart when amorous strokes be...