Yes, I can! I have no fear

Like a goat strutting along the green path
Looking left and right as it goes
Believe In your dreams, do not give up
Raise your bowed head and aloud declare
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Like an eagle spreading its wings soaring high
In the deep blue sky above unperturbed
Spread out your wings and aim high for the sky
Pursuing your goals with a little sigh saying
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Like a lion devours its prey unperturbed
Refusing the distractions so much around
Surmount your oppositions doggedly
Leaving behind no excuses, be reminded-
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Like a man pursues a beautiful maid unrelenting
Set your mind solely on your goals, be determined
Let your eyes look straight ahead unwavering
Forget your failures, they are passed, rise and say
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Try again, yet again and once again
When failures stare at you in the face
Striking you its numerous vicious blows
Let in your mind like water, these thoughts flow
Yes, I can! I have no fear

Every success comes with a story
Containing failures untold, part of the glory
Visible to the eyes often is the triumph
So when life pursuits bring setbacks so rough and tough
Get up and say yes, I can! I have no fear.

2nd Timothy 1:7 “God has not given us the Spirit of Fear, but that of power, and of love and of a sound mind”

Every success comes with a story
Containing failures untold, part of the glory
Visible to the eyes often is the triumph
So when life pursuits bring setbacks so rough and tough
Get up and say yes, I can! I have no fear.

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
©2021

The Bleeding Heart

The blood she shed was all her own.
She’d found no way to staunch the flow
For twelve long years.
The cost to her in doctors’ care
Was nothing to her shame and her enormous fears.
Unclean and thus untouchable
She knew she’d live and die alone in blood and tears.

The world had turned its back on her
And all she saw and all she touched was tinged with red.
Denied the right to worship God,
Denied the Temple courts by law, her soul was dead.
Denied all comfort, love of friends
And touch of man, she kept alone her blood-stained bed.

Her last hope lay in this new man,
But with her touch she’d make him, too, unclean, outcast.
And should she even hope for help?
Of all the people God might heal she was the last.
For it was God who sent the curse,
The blood and shame, the loneliness, through Laws He passed.

In spite of all these doubts and fears,
Mistrust of God, she took her chance – a touch unseen.
Then, Jesus, the untainted, changed the Law to Love.
Her world became new, fresh and green.

The blood He shed was all his own,
And flowing down it covered her and washed her clean.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

The Journey

Could it be that I forget my way back home?
What should I do now?
Was it not the road others had passed?
Many questions weny through me

The road closed and muddy
I was confused, not going back or front
Stained and made dirty by the muddy and dirty water

As I navigated my way through Canaan land
My knowledge failed, my experience lost
Thoughts became dark
Feelings swung as a child handles the swing

Suddenly, Christ sent the good Samaritans
They took me through the muddy place
Oh! What a blessedness of godly companions in times of troubles
Because they see what I could not see

Brightobong
©2020

The Most beautiful Girl- Part 2

Years pass and she remains a sister to me
A perfect relationship divorce can’t sever
There is no ‘more‘ to want
Her love is complete and I am satisfied
Until the 99th night she passed at my house
She wakes at midnight to find my fingers on her breast
With a push from her I land on the floor
On getting up I see the hurt and unbelief in her eyes as tears roll down her cheeks
There is no explanation to her or myself of my actions
No words are exchanged
The wait for dawn is like waiting for Jesus’ second coming
I curl on the floor while she clutches herself tightly on the bed with occasional sniffs
I die a thousand death in a thousand ways, all by suicide
She leaves as morning comes
Apologies are meant for explainable crimes, not inconceivable ones
This crime should not be apologized for nor forgiven
A lot of water pass under the bridge and today I cry;
I cry because she visits last week and wraps me in a hug
We go for walks and she leans on me like old times
Like I didn’t abuse her
She has a golden heart but the most I expect are patches;
A hand sewn cloth thread with caution
She disappoints me with total abandonment and oblivion of the past
I cry for I don’t deserve her yet I have her
Her name is Grace

ChyD
© 2019