With the year running,
A time comes when trees become skinny,
At this time you never feel queasy,
Because the atmosphere is really breezy.
Here in school,
I think of the year one evangelism,
It is a way to counter all other isms,
Though many absent themselves for various reasons.
In this time of the year,
All I think of are the “-mber” months,
Which end with December in everyone’s mouth,
You could fathom to what joy these would amount.
Come to think of it,
Rapture could occur in a time like this,
Though many would want to play a worldly disc,
They could be saved if they consider the risk.
Bringing this to an end,
Shocking wonders never end,
A naughty boy going to hell,
For disobeying parents on what he was sent.
This piece was written on
the 7th of September 2013 as I looked through the window of my
school hostel observing the harmattan breeze.
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