ONGODIA JAMES PETER Poems

I saw you seated by the flame.
You outshone in frame and name.
This hand for faint a line I blame,
That has not painted you too well.
...

Small rooms I enter.
I squat and read the scribbles.
Did fingers write these?
...

If they dare persecute me, let it come,
And should you ever ask, I would tell:
I constructed a faith like Noah's Ark,
No flood nor storm could dare dispel.
...