The Grey Hair

Remember those years
As I blew the light of the candle
Just like yesterday it seems
As the tape rolls on

My delight is always to watch
My Grandfather’s hair
Shine under the moon
Radiating us
As we gather round his feet

My favorite position
Was always by his right side
As I listen to his old stories
Yet alive in our brains
On how to live a life full of streams

I could remember vividly
His imaginable pictures
In depicting the life
Running in history with
The graceness of the streams
Flourishing the palm fronds
by the side of the river

This and many more
Lies buried in my mind
Which I would pass on
For ages I see
About the grey hair
Whose bones lies within

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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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