Love Poem: Ode On Butter
Bamanga Bashir Avatar
Written by: Bamanga Bashir

Ode On Butter

Love like hope betides,
nature is her ere scene,
what if the world would host, tis,
things flowing monsters, if wise, otherwise,
oh!, I think that the earth,
has blue and green and red...,
a little calendar of this savannah.
 
As the border is not based,
since nothing tends towards.

Alas!, what I can see willingly or unwillingly,
nature is beautiful and horizon rainbow,
were the earth wild there is a prayer of holy,
were this life frenzy and spoiled  still there is throw,
alas!, besides this longing of centuries,
alas!, besides this civilization trails,
alas!, besides this cultivation of memories.

How when a need arises society frowns,
how it will use basic there drowns.

But, the tale is gloom if it is held,
if it is tis thou relied,
what I cannot depend upon is a restraining mood,
one turned wild and one turned fiend,
nature says her love and butterfly her ecstasy,
and nature dreams and dreams,
oh!, nature is but a factory.

And even on it, a child claims poesy,
is not, for a trival reject,
since to shed a light on this contemporary horizon,
since nothing is for nothing or non.

Like here I fancied a ribbon of tide,
I think this part even is around,
is their IDs beheld tie,
then next I bound and found,
ere nature is democratic, better indeed,
since two is many a time paired,
and desire alone is a rare bond.

On an occasion in life,
it matters the experience but none to falter,
because it is to at least bind.

Ah!, if a little wave,
escape tomorrow like charcoal of ruins,
and this difference in life,
the earth on her revolution contends,
thus not that what is not known,
is acted to the favour of greed,
because it was not known at a dawn.

Now like a bee he/she is around within this frail,
what then clarity connects us concerning this trail?,
it actions are just nightmares,
alas!, a worst form of such vile sought reward,
worst is last lost failures.

Now odd is a life depending on   such a mod,
for may be it is ruined,
I cannot hold that I was torn and scared,
somewhere nor hold that I failed or missed,
this same fancy to fun the earth,
later I didn't mis entail,
and now is happy and wish to fold.