An Ocean Of Thanks Poem by BELLO SAGIR IMAM

Oh! Audince, the speaker has none besides her
Fall at her hands are paradise and hellfire
The last of the prophets she succeeds
Hundreds Dala in weight her love is to the composer
Damo the whole world knows she is
Manage with the author she did in months
Indeed! The pride and joy of the writer
Into pieces, with the sharpest knife the writer cut her womb
Ayyururi! ! ! all and sundry chanted atop their voices
Pious with many fruits absolutely she is
Capital offence must it be to deny her a stanza
To compensate her with all Bill Gates I must confess is too meager
Must to the poet is A to Z Yes, Yes and Yes
'Fatana gareka mace ta gari Muhamman' she sings
The cry of the stanzaman Junior I pray her ear to hear
Firdause God willing is her last room
An ocean of thanks to the supreme she