Sermon Poem by Folayemi Akande

In life we live to rise and to fall
Like love, a task that never will pall.
Will a child, fed from the vinegary breast
Taste poor life as cloying than a gall?
To him, life is spiteful at its best.

For if he taste a thing sweet as bee
Life will be quaffed to its own marrow
And thumbs will gaze at villanous he
For such an eye is void and shallow.

Love is as impetuous as fire
To be calmed with meek and desire
It's better to live enslaved to love
Than to make your heart a throne for hate'.

Devoid love, a rose's bloom is tough
Better love than make evil a mate.