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Natasha Wheeler Poem
English,the pauper.
I am Mr English,standing on a side walk,
For ,I get carried away,when I hear them talk.
I sometimes borrow and sometimes steal
A word or sound ,just to get a feel
Dal becomes Doll and tea is just some Chai
But ,when Hello, becomes Hi,all I do is sigh!
The tasty broth of language does have local spice
Where 'Yeah,Yo and Yehhh', are sandwiched on the same slice
I wonder, how this rich diction, would stand the ugly test
Where OMG, LOL & SELFIES, do have their nest
I,English, was a king that ruled the kingdom of communication,
Now ,I'm reduced to a pauper with awful pronunciation .
An appeal from this pauper ,is plain you see,
Do not suck out my essence ,when you do use me!
Copyright © Natasha Wheeler | Year Posted 2017
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Natasha Wheeler Poem
The age of cacophony ,impels me on a rustic stride
Away from the fancy spotlight,
Where flowers bloom in robust rapture
With its deacons fluttering with laughter,
Where brothers embrace eachother ,with gleeful splendour
Spreading their fronds to protect little hearts, so tender.
Where a choir garbed with feathers of amber,jade and ebony
Perform a soulful symphony .
I walk along to meet a singing maid
Combing her strands along fields of jade
The day passes with tranquility
Befriending the grace of these eminent personalities.
Copyright © Natasha Wheeler | Year Posted 2017
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Natasha Wheeler Poem
I walk along a rustic path
Leading to the key ,of my heart.
I stand alone on this trail
Never letting my dreams go frail,
Aware that I walk towards the light
Seldom faltering in the dreadful night.
Not knowing where this road may lead
Life sure is a mystery,yes ,indeed!
I keep going,uncertain but strong
Humming an echo of life's favourite song.
Copyright © Natasha Wheeler | Year Posted 2017
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Natasha Wheeler Poem
I was born in a land far from the queen
Growing up there was a lovely scene
Where the families had traces of the Colonies
Of the British valour and symphony
Where grandma spoilt us with tasty ball curry
And grandpa boasted about troupes that scurry
Where we were taught to be proud of our roots
And boxing was the best way to settle disputes
A railway job was the simple way
But working on boats surely saved the day
My father worked hard to make ends meet
My mother taught us never to cheat
Christmas was a time to rejoice
Singing wasn't restricted to just some noise.
I lived in a time when my country was free
But the oldies still gushed about the English spree.
Copyright © Natasha Wheeler | Year Posted 2017
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Natasha Wheeler Poem
What is prayer?
A figment of our imagination,
A deep and touching conversation.
A rhyme that sinks in so deep
An emotion that makes one weep.
I don't know how prayer works for you
But the failures of a prayer I never knew.
You don't have to kneel down and yell out your heart
You just need to speak to God for a start.
Tell him your troubles and your trials
Tell him to stand beside you , at every mile.
Say a prayer for a friend or two,
For your sister,brother ,parents and you.
Sing some praises and always thank
For prayer is a ship that never sank.
Copyright © Natasha Wheeler | Year Posted 2017
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Natasha Wheeler Poem
A soft voice cried,'O'Lord don't you hear
Your faithful lambs sobbing in fear,
There is dread as our ship has lost its sail
In distress we drown in Adam's ale,
Can you not hear my pleas
O' father have you foresaken me?'
As the voice broke off in sheer dismay
The clouds in heaven began to sway,
A thin white light shone through the sky
Saying,'My babe I shall never let you die,
Don't think that I desert thy prayer
You shall not suffer a pare
You're my beloved land of peace and verdure
Your pains and sufferings will die for sure.
The world needs to lose its idle profanity
As you're my instrument to restore humanity!'
Copyright © Natasha Wheeler | Year Posted 2018
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Natasha Wheeler Poem
He said to me,"Ma'am I don't really run,
I have no friends under the sun!"
She said to me,"Ma'am I know not to skip,
My friends are sailing in another ship"
They said to me,"Ma'am we know not to hop,
As the aunties in our building always yawp!"
Oh tell me now what shall I say
When I hear of kids that do not play,
Wassap,facebook have become their life
As society only causes them strife
Can we not let them free for a while?
Is it that they are always on trial?
Let's take a step towards their needs
Even a farmer nurtures his seeds!
Copyright © Natasha Wheeler | Year Posted 2018
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