As I Like It (Ode To The Unheard And The Unseen) Poem by Oghenero Benefit Evabeta

Thou still, untainted woman of the wild,
Stray-child of stillness, of time beguiled,
War's chronicler, whose silent tongue
Sings sweeter truth than bards have sung.
What metals forged thy haunted breath—
What cartridges carved songs of death?
Of men or gods, or both combined,
On battlefield or in earth's quiet mind?
What visions dance before thine eyes—
Visions a gentle soul despise?
What frantic chase? What flight? What cry?
What chivalrous roar? What ecstasy high?

Let history tell: war is dread, but more
Are tales untold, and hearts left sore.
O furnace-heart, be calm, be still—
Speak not again to my fragile will.
Let not my soul be lured to flame
By melodies that sigh thy name.
Beneath green boughs, soft music weaves
Through quiet air and trembling leaves.
Shy lovers pause with lips near-touched,
The moment blooms—unchained, unclutched.
Grieve not, sweet youth, though time may flee;
Love lingers, if thou yield to me.

O joy that knows no crimson spill,
That bids the past be past, be still.
And thou, glad psalmist, ever new,
Sing melodies the morning drew.
Sing love again—love without sword,
Peace we sang, as one accord.
Peace for babes with eyes still wide,
Peace for youth in untainted stride.
Peace beyond all flesh and tone,
Where sorrow drained the heart alone.
For beauty dwells in truth, and see:
All truth is beauty—so let it be.