Samson Stephen

Imagine a king Whose kingdom is made of gold Whose palace is incomparable Whose palace is immeasurable Imagine the mightiness of His power Whose Yes is Yes Whose No is No Whose wrath is grieved Who created the Heavens and Earth The Heavens His throne The Earth His footstool Who owns the universe THE ALMIGHTY He created man in His own likeness and image Who sent His only begotten son to die for us Who was beaten, spat on and flogged just for you and i Oh! what a great love Can a man do this for his family? Can a wife do this for her husband? Can a husband do this for his wife? Can a father do this for his children? Can mother do this for her children? Can a son do this for his family? Can a daughter do this for her family? Can a friend do this for his loved ones? Can a man do this for the world? He did all of this for us He died on the cross for us He was crucified on the cross He died to save humanity He died to restore peace He di...

Victoria Seidu Seidu Victoria Temitope is a motivational and creative writer, a poet and also a student of Olabisi Onabanjo University studying Physics Education from the faculty of Education. Born on 20th of May, Victoria has always grown up with the passion of igniting hope in the life of individuals, she took a step forward in her writing skills. Presently, she runs a Facebook page VIKKI-PEN where she posts her write ups. Her library (Work of Arts) includes: poetry, articles, nuggets and quotes. She's a gem transcending into limelight, a work of art ready to design a world of gold.

Victoria Seidu (Vikki-Pen) The sprawling undulating terrain, the dizzying road only sheered upward from one noisy market to another which was as stolid as the canon himself Spirits  and ghommids that made children permanently nervous The air hung heavy with the perfumes of lemon leaves, guavas, mangoes, sticky with the sap of boum-boum and the secretions of the rain tree ripened into a desiccated yellow, collapsing like the face of the old men The appearance of a dance and the bell began pealing, sometimes they danced rather than marched without breaking rhythm My toys and games soon palled but the laughter still rankled Longer and longer, pausing over object which became endowed with new meaning forms Even dimensions as soon as silence descended on their environment i became a little uncertain of my role as celebrant and host Still, i took  my place among the others and awaited the parade of good things. ©Vicky-Pen 2018