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Sonnets: Woods of trees

Come to the forest
To see for yourself
The beauty in greens
And the main reason
Mustard seeds decay;
Well, breathe comes from death
Germinating through
The touch of seasons;
Spore sprout by the sun
One layer in rows
Rings begin to grow,
Giving it the strength
And rigid backbones
To grow to any length.

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Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Neem

Funny, each time I see neem
I feel like blood gaining Haem.

Worthy like dimes costly balm;
Like shark in floods writing poems.

They are poisons full to brim;
Leave’s free, rare cord making brain.

So fine they seem evergreen
Their trees in cloud gathers rain.

Eyin-Nta

Eyin-nta, Eyin-nta
A tree witches don’t perch on
From as far as a child’s parent great grandparents
Standing rigid on the sands of thy fathers
Looking ordinary way beyond its protections
Mulish to all the evil acts and suggestions
Mystic says: witches don’t perch on it.

Eyin-nta, Eyin-nta
Spreading branches wide and long
On it, only god-birds sings a song
Sunny or rainy: its leaf drops
Like tears and sweat drops
From its fierce elastic stems
Mystic says: witches don’t perch on it.

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