DR. CHILD HEALTH STORYTELLER

  THE UNQUENCHABLE LOVE   WUNMI AJAYI His love is a tasty juice flowing from the jar of His heart into the receptacle in my belly. An elephant appears from the jungle; Rumbles the grass with its hoof as if a bass stick was beating on a drum. Sticks out its husk, attempting to suck the juice and empty the receptacle But it can never stop flowing And I will never stop receiving it. © Wunmi Ajayi

  HOPE DARES ME TO RISE   Ayooluwa Olasupo(IMISI) But hope that is seen is not hope Rom 8:24 I am hope but you don't know Because my robes don't glow Neither is my face laced with gold. I am speaking but you can't hear How my heart beats From beneath tattered tunic. It seems you can't see that I'm with you 'Cos my rainbow is covered with charcoal coloured clouds. I am hope but you don't know That when I'm seen, it's no longer me And when my voice is hardly heard, That's when I'm even near. I am hope and I dare you to rise; I'll be a lamp to your feet And showers of strength to your sagging soul So when you think I'm missing, that's when I'm near.

 NOT YET OVER TO RECOVER Pursue for you shall surely overtake them and without fail recover all(1 Sam 30:8) Ayooluwa Olasupo(IMISI) The city had been burned with fire. Sepulchres of heroes were painted on a canvas of ashes And the house of treasure was razed down by the rage of inferno from invaders— The Amalekites. The wives of our youth, Our sons who served at the table And daughters that watered flowers, Were now captives in the garrison of thieves— The thieves of peace and posterity. We entered our land and behold it was gone! The land that once was eyed for the green that adorned her trees And grains that danced upon her hills; Alas it now lay in ruins We opened our mouths like a dam And the tears we released showed how damned we were. We soon lost the strength to weep As our hopes became a fable. Our souls grieved for the loss of the ones we loved Stones from the people landed on the king's temple as if his own queens were spared from the siege. The crowned one began to drown...

  POEM: OPEN SECRET  BY AYOOLUWA OLASUPO (ÌMÍSÍ) Was it a secret when the plot was written and sealed with acacia gum? Before the depths of the earth were dug, a thought was kept in the heart of the Great One.                                                                                  Was it a secret when Messiah walked the earth like a servant and made His way to a wooden cross? He hung on it till death's bell was rung and echoes of darkness hit the universe.                   That night, Lucifer was hosting a feast because it still appeared like a secret; How wine trickled down the throat of his angels and dance twisted their feet to tunes of an assumed victory. Was it a secret that the One seen but unknown by His own B...

POEM: ENGRAVED BY AYOOLUWA OLASUPO(ÌMÍSÍ) There are days when I wish I could speak to the ground to open its mouth So that I could get swallowed like bolus of  soft yellow eba Escorted by an entourage of assorted okra, Let it swallow me so I can escape from life's plate of plights. Just here, when my hopes are weary in motion, Like deflated tyres of a moving vehicle, I hear a voice amidst the rumble saying: 'You are mine!' 'You are engraved on the hollows of my palms.'

MY SCROLL OF OLD In the cool and still night when fierce breeze makes trees bend, Where white sheets of snow spread on naked street Was all my sunken eyes were spared to see; Like the pulp of a doctor's finger over weak and thready pulse, Tracking every bit of blood beating against a bleeding artery, Hoping to find a jot of life left of the fainting soul who lay helpless; Here where my breath was vanishing into vivid vapour, My heart rode on a stallion and strove to make its way into my scroll of old: There should still be some songs left in my scroll of old. There sure should be some songs of hope left in my scroll of old; So I won't let this cord cut. Imisi

"But the vine answered, " Should I give up my wine, which cheers both God and man, to hold sway over the trees?"