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The Cradling Song.


Repose thy head thou needed bright.
Repose thy rage in peaceful night.
Thy flaming choices let not scorch
Irascible voices to torch.
Repose thy head in setting west
And samba rhumba towards nest.

O genteel night thy head please rest.
Repose thy harmfuls within, lest
Thy graves might trumpet ascension
And thy mortals will leisure shun.
Repose thy head till morning dews
And then thou would have paid thy dues.

The literates . illiterates
Concort our land’s electorates:
Repose thy rays of flaming dreads
And that of genteel harmful heads.
Thumb thou umbrella to sheath weep
Allow thy thumb thy broom to sweep.

© Aremu Adams Adebisi

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