Fire and Love

That quiet touch started
Deep in the early night
Creeping slowly into each apartment
With the feet of a lowly lamb

Eating each material
Along its path
With the never ending
Mouth of a wolf

The children in their tenderness
Slept like adults
While the adults dreamt on
Like infants

It caught hold of the children’s room
And six feet hurry speedily
To their father’s bosom

The raising of the firearms
Amounted to nothing
For they were
Behind the burglary’s prison

All they do was wrapped
Around themselves in silent prayer
With the quiet sound of “mama”
From the youngest female

Tears dripped slowly from the father
As he called speedily for help
But luck wore a chain round
His golden neck

The mother gave consoling words
To the young kids
As they all folded
Around her breast

When evening passed
With their bodies still fresh in sight
It breath realms of love
Under the smoke of the fire
As they all held to each other
Till they gave their last



About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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