Kingsley Olaleye Reuben
A house of feeling
Your heart is a house,
When its empty it is cold
But when it has inhabitants it
Is warm an full of life.
Your house is not a house though,
It is a home.
Home to feelings of humanity;
Care, concern, compassion.
My heart has been home to
Heartbreak an no visiting feelings
Dare knock on my door.
My home is a house because it is empty.
Love grew tired of waiting
Sitting at home alone.
When I peer into your deep mesmerizing eyes
I see your house-a house of feeling
Like a heavy chest full of treasures,
Full to the brim.
When I lay my fixity on you
I can only stop an admire,
For you possess a house of feeling,
An the fire place in that house
Breaths the warmth of life
Into every room.
I smile at you an envy
From a distance because you
Have a house of feeling,
A currency stronger than gold,
Your smile will never falter.
I need your warmth,
Like two hands clasped in prayer,
Giving yet taking.
I wait outside hoping you’ll
Let me in for winter is fast approaching.
You have a glow only the
Sun could look at an be jealous of,
I look into your beautiful eyes and
Through those windows I watch
The fire place, trying to imagine
What it would feel like
To feel those flames breath on me
Warm me, and make me intoxicated.
I am nothing but a bold neighbour,
Coming from my house to yours
To ask you for a bit of log
From your fire place for my flames
Have been long extinguished.
As I look at you, I sit in awe
An am somehow inspired,
An as our eyes meet for a fraction
Of a moment in time continuous,
I see beyond the beautiful barrier
Called your eyes, a house of feeling
A home of inhabitants,
A nest full of warmth,
An unquenchable fire.
I look through your window
An sigh, all your feelings are
Warming by the fire.
And as I boldly knock,
I wonder whether you would
Allow space for one more feeling,
Knocking an waiting outside your
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(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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