Myrrh: A song of Oke Iroegbu

I want to sing of the butterfly
That roam the green garden
Happily she glide with the air
Watching the sun shine in the noon
And waiting to fly to other lands
Where the sunflower glows when the sun shine

I want to sing of undying hope
The harbinger of light, smokeless
Like an infinite candle
Sitting on the cliff of hearts
Which stay without much comfort
But had made hardwork their effort

I want to sing of the hills
Which grew so tall behind the wall
As a strange tower of sand and rock
Hanging without a pillar or pole
Mustering a muscle and a big soul
For everyone who seek who walk on her mould

I want to sing of the river
The one flowing through hills and valleys
The one feeding the nations and tribes
With clean sweet spring water
Washing, splashing in joyful haste and wonder
To the reach of everyone, the townsmen and the villager

I want to sing of the town
Where men worked in ecstatic arts
And women laughed as they dance
A city where the night came alive
For the day was made to strive
And the evening for men to meet their wives

I want to sing of you
Of your benevolence and malevolence
For all weaknesses,
When it was fun to say we
And when we woke to see
There was little left to be

I want to sing of Gods love
Worthy is He that sit upon the Throne
The One who take me places
Brings me back in one piece,
The One who is the Almighty
He is the Air I breath, the Light I see

By Oke Iroegbu

Finance Graduate, Bibliophile and Bard of Ovim, his hometown. Read more at