Quiet Times Poem by Adeosun Olamide

On this shores of earth, dry bones are washed ashore
Bones once bustling with agility, carcass that are of commanders of ships
Brought ashore by tides that rives soul and body apart, sailors from ship afore
Swept into hands of playing toddlers by evil winds grip

Just ago, chuckles of laughter's rent the air as the telescope gave the lie,
Then the sparrow hawk did as it on the balcony of the ship descend making screeching sounds,
Drunk by joy, Carried by laughter, the sailors gave away to dance in open sky,
On tenterhooks of meeting weary mothers, slacken breasted wives, grown up daughters, sons around

Just then, the winds creaked in anger, turning chuckles into shrieks,
Booming sheeted waters into deck gusting deck hands on bowsprit as tempest fuel scheme
The gaff, mast wafting in sided direction, the spinnaker lost as others from the deck into tempest sneaks
And in this rewarded treasure is casted away with and from them.

In the old chapel, vigil be held, prayers, anticipating returns anchored by hopeless priests
Perhaps treasures valued better valuing treasures in unending ardors of vanities feast.