The Monarchs.

Photo source

Summer’s scorching reign was over, and the world finally became a stage for the succeeding princess. High hopes were held of her and the events of her coronation as documented in a lost journal reads;

As the sun crowned autumn,

with a fitting tiara bathed in gold,

whistling winds blew their bagpipes,

tree twigs swayed softly in the melodious aura,

and lush leaves fell fatuously

in deference to her majesty;

Alas, not all subjects agreed to bend the knee,

for they feared the land’s drought may never cease,

and how did the new queen respond?

Well, she sicced her soldiers on them.

Cheemnonso™

The Beauts

Photo source

There’s the graceful allure of august auroras,
and the radiance of a splendid sun,
seeing through the teardrops of heaven;

There’s the ravishing bloom of pink cherry blossoms,
and the artsy resplendence,
weaved into the plumes of swirling macaws;

There’s the last golden smile of a summer sunset,
and the stunning dazzle of the moon and stars,
enlivening the gorgeous collage of the night sky;

but, of all the beauties mother nature has borne,
you, my dear, will forever be second to none.

Cheemnonso

Ode to Music

I’ve seen the colour of music;

yellow like a budding sunflower,

with blotted petals clothed in tumeric;

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I’ve treaded her country, so idyllic;

where love and lust tastes sweet and sour,

and the dreams bequeathed inspire moments of magic;

.

I’ve heard her melody, so angelic;

easing my nightmares in the darkest hour

as the crickets chirp a solemn panegyric;

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and when I feared my world grew paralytic,

with pain urging me to cower,

she became a soothing analgesic;

.

Alas, the tale she tells can sometimes seem cryptic,

as her throbbing pulses conceal its true power,

and her wordings can sometimes be toxic,

like a fierce fanged hound geared to devour;

still, I’ll forever be in awe of her alluring mystique,

for she has given me a thousand reasons to stay poetic.

.

Cheemnonso™

A Letter to Humanity. (Free Verse)

Dear humanity,
I write this to ask you,
How did we drift so askew,
to the point where
the vain is inanely adored,
and the sane is insanely abhorred?

Why do the colours that make rainbows smile
and give the auroras her alluring style,
no longer ignite beauty sparks on faces,
but smear the tracks of individual races?

Why do we worship the elitists
at their altar of greed,
but ignore the sinister cysts,
sprouting on those in need?

Why do we still play the game called fame,
whilst our high-scores keep putting us to shame?

When did everyone suddenly become so fickle,
leaving us to trust only the Reaper’s thrusting sickle?

If you’re reading this, I need some answers,
I really do,
because the world slowly sinks into hate’s murky gutter,
and I need to know how to keep my head above water.

Regards,

Cheemnonso

Amara. (Panegyric)

Sitting in the back pew,

within walls shrouded in lew,

I beheld this wonderful creature,

with a smile belighting all of nature;

Her skin knitted in fine threads of gold,

unspooling from looms in Midas’ hold,

and her tress flowing like the river Rhine,

in ways so slithery, so serpentine;

Alas, my heart’s chalice yearned a fill,

but I feared it may drown in its overspill,

so, there I sat ogling away,

hoping to have this dream another day.

.

Cheemnonso™

Cliffhanger

It’s been eons since you left,

but, your perfume still lingers in the attic;

the sun sleeps,

the dark creeps,

and as each day passes,

our past evanesces,

now, memories of you are

as thin as a knife’s edge,

and the more I cling unto them,

the more I bleed out,

so, it’s time I let go.

.

Cheemnonso

Freedom

Trapped in solitude, I see freedom,

Freedom to know when to utter and stutter,

Freedom to know when to leap and be leaped on,

Freedom to save by spending,

Freedom to eat my food for thought,

Freedom to be the extroverted introvert,

Freedom to move mountains while sitting,

Freedom to walk on water while sleeping,

Freedom to cuss through life’s courses,

Freedom to know what’s right and abhor what’s left,

Freedom to write my sweet sorrows,

Freedom to sketch my beautiful messes,

Freedom to sway and sway to freedom,

Moreso, I see the freedom to be free.

.

Cheemnonso ✍️✍️✍️