POEM: EARLY MORN
EARLY MORN
And the morning nightingale sang again
Whistling the tunes of a new day
Transcendent gurgles from the free verse
Trying to garner my attention
Happy New month
Oh poor me! 
😌
Still wrapped in the charade of sleep
She never gave up
The nightingale, she says
It’s jolly new month
The crickets soon joined
Chirping their best at the third verse
From a distance, many hurled
Come on boy, wake up
Up to feet and sing to the heavens
And Nnee tapped me
The debonair angel, my guide
She says in her voice, the wee small voice
Only the mind could comprehend
To your feet and, Don’t keep God waiting
O time! What a luxury you are
I warned you and I meant it
Always running when needed
Sluggish when studying
And Morpheus your time is up
And like the high priest I proceed,
The Melchizedek of new
To the threshold of divine presence
The king surely deserves an appraisal
Sanctify our works this month, O Lord.
From a distance God glared
Unleashing the dews of blessing to his people
Over a trillion I count
I hope to name mine one by one
The ember blessings now in my chamber
I need not a piano to accompany
The merry birds are already on the praise
We prayed, solely we communed
#OKECHUKWU JP
