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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A praise to an elite London-trained Nigerian Legal practitioner and my grandfather, Viemudu Igho at his death.


Tell it all, through lands and climes, ye zephyrs.

His life, his epic, do raise in sweet strain.

Tell them yet-- feats wrought ere he left these spheres,

Going the way of all flesh, life to gain.

O what priceless times I here envision!

When ere he, through Holborn's wide gates did pass,

Worked hard while he these lands nobly walked through.

Up central London sought he cognition,

And returning, cast on our minds canvass,

Well limned in homespun hue, a patroit true.

O priceless moments in recollection!

When us in discourse all time stood stone-still.

Had I but the reins of time and motion,

With but a beck, I'd dwell in them at will.

O those accents clear! Bearing volumes dear;

Tender pieces spun by a seasoned lyre.

How they flood my heart in reminiscence!

O what settled mien? What panache? What flair?

O what grace that shone, burning bright as fire!

How potently they charm all of my sense!

Hurly-burly's done, battle's fought and won.

Eyes boast no perception where the mind sees

For whilst the grief, tears pent and spent roll on,

Up and yon, you sail Sion's silver seas.

As Christ, the sepulchre could all but thrall,

Grandpa, your epic strides still in stout flair,

Finely gracing your brow with a nimbus.

My ovation soars at you curtain-call

Which ends it not... Vivam, avus...vivere

In verba...in cartis...in cordibus.

Submitted: August 07, 2018

© Copyright 2021 Lysander Oqui Livinus-Edison. All rights reserved.

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