Friendship
The Igbo Princess Called Ada.
Ada, my princess with eyes so bright, you shine like stars in the darkest night. Your voice is soft, like morning rain, it washes away my deepest pain. Your laughter dances through the trees, it floats so light on the village breeze. With every step, you move with grace, a queenly charm upon your face. You wear your wrapper, red and gold, a story of beauty, strong and bold. Your smile brings peace to every land, your touch is gentle, like God’s own hand. From the streams of enugu to owerri's song, with you beside me, i belong. I will build a home with love so wide, for you, ada, to stand with pride. Let all the drums beat in delight, for you, my moon, my heart, my light. Ada, my love, my royal flame, forever i’ll whisper your sweet name.
By Chris Liberty 2 years ago in Poets
When The Rain Sang Love.
The rain began, a gentle hush, no need for shelter, no need to rush. She reached for him with laughing eyes, as thunder hummed across the skies. Barefoot in the puddled street, they moved where rhythm met heartbeat. No song but raindrops played above, the perfect sound for making love. Her dress clung close, the night grew wild, yet in his arms, she was a child, free and fearless, soft and strong, they danced like they'd been waiting long. Each twirl a promise, step a vow, no past or future, only now. The storm, a stage, the wind, their choir, their love alive with raw desire. And when the lightning kissed the ground, they kissed too, lost and newly found. In falling rain, they found their grace, two hearts, one dance, in one embrace.
By Chris Liberty 2 years ago in Poets
On the Flip Side of the Mirror
A surge of sense.s Silences seconds— Close your eyes And the air thickens With a cocktail of scents That trigger every last nerve ending Like an old symphony Your body almost remembers. Life, at the end of a racetrack Where first place feels like a punishment— Awareness loses To convenience That stretches itself one morning And finds every damn piece of furniture Moved. Protests? Pointless. Fingers now bend in rebellious directions. Thyroid keeps demanding pills Three times a day, Stomach files complaints Unless the menu is monk-approved. Cuss words— Once sharp like knives— Now sound like cheap echoes. Rules? They fight back With scribbled receipts, Faded travel plans, And three damn cars Nobody makes or fixes anymore. Hey— Remind the room These creaky knees still pack enough torque To knock some sense in. Let them Play smart. I’ll return their sweet suggestions With whichever finger Gets the best lift. Forward is forward— No matter the pace. Make Them Wait. Let them learn What this relentless chase For programmed praise Does to bone, breath, and being. Give them a test at the end—three hours, no cheat sheet. Laugh hard— Behind the book You now can’t read Without your bifocals. Once, I might have whispered— “Hold fire. Wait it out.” But now? The world spills Over with nonsense. The hourglass is bare. No witnesses needed. Only a season of reckoning
By Rakibul Islam2 years ago in Poets
🧠💘 Love or Logic? This Poem Reveals the Painful Truth
✍️ Poet's Note This poem dives deep into the unseen war between the heart and mind—two eternal forces shaping our emotions, decisions, and destiny. Inspired by real emotions and timeless struggles, it speaks to anyone who has ever stood at the crossroads of logic and love.
By PRABAL TR PRO2 years ago in Poets
