Whispers In The Wind Poem by Linus Kithinji Njeru

Happy and glad am I, for Nature's gift,
A lady fair, from distant lands, adrift.
A treasure brought by Fate, my heart doth yearn,
For she, whose thought doth make my spirit burn.
Leticia, my sweet darling, thou art wind,
A breeze that whispers where the storms begin.
Upon whom thou dost blow, a river bends,
A self-destructive course, where joy ends.

Never hath the scent of sweet or sweat,
Escaped the lips of those who seek to get
The fame of stars upon the golden shore,
Nor felt the rush of love that does implore,
A teenage heart, sweet pangs of love, untrue.
Yet, thy own love doth burn both pure and new.

Ticia, sweet is but a poor guise for thee,
Thou art the honey, golden nectar, free.
A flower born of gardens rich and rare,
From realms where men would gaze, yet never dare.
Thy beauty's wealth, the jealous man doth crave,
Yet, it brings grief, and leaves a hollow grave.
For when thy sweetness fades, I am undone,
My heart, now frail, with sorrow weighs a ton.

The sun doth set, and with it comes the night,
When thou didst leave, my manhood lost its might.
My spirit cried, though tears did not appear,
For thirty-three long nights I wept in fear.
The staff of joy, where once we'd danced in play,
Is now but dust, and sorrow marks the day.
For my sweet melon, once so full and bright,
Left empty now, and drenched in darkest night.

O God, to tell the truth, words fail me here,
To name the worth, the softness, and the cheer.
A friend like fire that warms the coldest heart,
Yet now doth leave me torn, and torn apart.
I pray thee, Lord, protect her from all harm,
And grant her joy, with peace that doth disarm.
Let her be safe, her happiness secure,
According to Thy will, both pure and sure.

(November 28th 2008)