I hear the call of rome

I hear her voice
In the shadows of the wind
I hear rome call
With her feminine voice
In the mid of my home
At the sixth of the eve

Her sweet celestial hymn
The burnt of her incense
The mixing of the wine
The loaf on the lid
I see from afar
As I stare on
from my window

My heart rise
As the crowds
bend on their knees
In worship of the supreme

I hear rome call
Bid me welcome
To join in her feast



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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