Child Is Crown Poem by habib akewusola

CHILD IS CROWN.
Omolade,
Incantations of blessings
Spread within the air,
The way I sense
I predict the town criers
Smell,
I also hear his steps,
What could be the future
Of this pronouncement?
See those leafs hanging
Up his head,
Ha! The king must be dead,
Another will erupt before
He could be sent to earth.
Call to prayer is all I hear,
The cows fear
As goats dance for help.
Every era has an end,
None can predict the next
Incumbent.
Omolade
The symbol of help,
Arise, as been pronounced
In his name spelt,
All must keep a clean chest,
That protects his neighbors
Nest,
Even when the dreams lay
To rest
You should be his pet.
Reason, to forget the
Meaning of regrets.
We would appease the
Forests,
And all customary prospects,
I am a friend to earth,
ready to quench majorities
teast,
As I handle my staff and
Recite my pledge,
Let the crown fit my
Head,
Fore this tenure will never
See past tense.
AKEWUSOLA HABIB.