Saving Day At Night Poem by Adeosun Olamide

Storms Coming'
When Pleasures Engaged' In
The Groove its passage
Grave It Blesses

Tempest Whirls
While dreams Encaged' In
Its rouse in your deeds
Strolls Corridors' Thieving souls

Grave it rapes of quietness,
Earth it rapes of sweetness, of yields
With water and fire its means
Beneath clouds that quenched stars

What shall save thee?
Walls or blankets, or planes, or ships
Or comforting sorrows of undue hope
Or torn bridges, or tattered church
What shall save when all is wounded?

Perhaps ye,
For fate doomed upon self
When ire nature, of forest made scraps
Of smokes ascends heaven, its fumes choking her

Perhaps ye,
For giving seed earth, rearing tree
For in purifying atmosphere
You appease her, curbing coming storm