The premise goes everyone knows
before entering the premises
while still outside yet on the mat
it's no gentleman who forgets
to doff his cap or remove his hat
if dining out or at a private party
for a particular person
it's impolite at most
to sip slurp or slink a drink
before the toast to a hospitable host
and when beside the table laden
confronted by the salsa bowl
biting then re-dipping chips
the most unmannerly of all
is he (or she) who double-dips
Quote:
"Xenodochial (pronounced zeena-doh-key-ul) means to be hospitable. Making others feel at home is truly an art. When you can make your friends, family, and even strangers feel as if they truly belong, you are making the world a better place". By Poet
______________________________________________________________
In a rather distant and uncaring world
There is a virtue that is widely unknown
Friendly, xenodochial, and blithesome Words
A non-parochial warmth is widely shown
Strive to treat strangers with dignity and kindness
And to bless your soul, grant no eyes to blindness
You may glimpse angels—in this river of dryness
No impediments ought to obscure the light
Treasure is always found at unexpected sites
Always be suitable for fresh starts and height
Welcoming pathway lights are faint yet pearled
Bear in mind we harvest whatever we have sown
Don't scold or exhibit just a shred of unkindness
A star shining on you will be soft, mild, and bright
I greet you with much pleasure,
I welcome you with clean heart,
Let’s love each other so we can see the Lord,
Let’s share peace so we can go to heaven.
When we show love and kindness to each other,
We will have a good life,
Wealth and honour.
I can see the hand of the Lord, my body is so powerful,
Let’s be united so we can knock down Satan,
Let’s join our hands and deliver others,
Let’s shout loudly so people can hear the truth.
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe
Mussabwa Chris
R-ighteous
O-ne
D-oes
O-pen
L-ife
F-or
O-utsiders
Topic: Birthday of Rodolfo C. Quinan, Jr (April 10)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Stars drop and drop from the sky,
To pour down into snow from the dark spruce firs.
Across the vast Russian land
Orphaned children trail to the howling song of snowstorms.
They just do not see the gala lights,
They do not laugh nor play,
The adult world has cast them aside.
Are they on the verge or already beyond it?...
...Only stars might suddenly ring out bells
And light up their darkened way.
Our Lord the Saviour Himself spreads His wings
Flying fast to the children's rescue.
All their troubles will disperse like smoke!
A miraculous ray of light will cut the vast darkness
Beckoning the children, abandoned by their own country,
To the hospitable Heavenly palace...
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