Wednesday, 2 April 2014

WHY



Why walk without God, when you can walk with God
Why live life without God, when you can live a life with God
Why dance for man, when you can dance for God
Why sing for man, when you can sing for God
Why worry, when you can pray to God
Why struggle, when you can ask God
Life is simple
Why complicate it


By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz



© SylviaChika 2014


Saturday, 8 March 2014

FOREVER ONE




The dusty wind carried a scent
He wasn’t sure of what it was
Yet he took a deep breath
And filled his wide wrinkled nostrils with a dose of fresh dust
One would wonder why he was unperturbed by the dust
But the joy in his heart knew no bounds

He turned around and he saw her
The queen of his heart
She blew hard on the burning wood
She always found it difficult lighting the fire
This was her limitation
But it was his strength

So he hurried towards the love of his life
And held her frail hands to stop her from trying harder
He puts some more dry leaves on the burning wood
And he blew hard
So hard that he felt like a dragon
The soot covered kettle rattled a bit as the fire surround its little frame

She smiled at him sweetly
She might be imperfect to the world
But she was perfect for him
She was his sunshine
And his mission was to love her
To cherish her and make her smile till his dying day







His shaky hands held her frail and aging hands
Oh yes! This was her husband
Sixty years with a man who made her smile
Challenges came…Challenges spoke
But together they united and fought the trials
An army they both were
A commander and priest he was to her
A leader in their home
A husband…a lover

He rose to his feet and pulled her up to hers
The dusty wind hit her hard
And she cringed
But still her heart was glad
Like a teenager, she walked into his warm embrace

Every scar on his wrinkled skin was a mark of victory
His strength she admired
Their seeds she cherished
A man of honor and sincerity he was
Sixty years had passed since she said yes to him
Sixty years of love and submission
And despite the death of two kids
They stood strong
United they stood
Forever one


By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog

Twitter:@sylviaoz

Monday, 30 December 2013

Alone At Christmas





Hiding from the next burst of dusty air
He scrambles further into the rusted tank
Hiding from truth and false realities of joy
The mice around him seem busy
Fighting for the last crumbs of bread
Their spiky fur now dusty and unfriendly
This was a home he now loved
One human inhabitant and a thousand mice

This rusted old tank was all he had
All he owned
All he inherited from the its previous tenant
It was all he could ever give as a gift

He hugged his dry legs
They lacked moisture and gloss
The crack-lines formed several patterns

He could feel his skin crack even more
It hurt
Oh yes it did
But this was the least of his worries
His stomach growled
The chill was getting worse
The dusty harmattan wind was torturing
It carried the sweet aroma of Christmas food and lots of dust
The aroma was torturing
He hungered
He hungered for a lot
Warmth
Shelter
Love
Food
Companionship
Clothes
And family
He wanted it all

He watched them complain about silly things as they walked past his tank each day
They nagged about foolish things
He wished he could worry about such
Low batteries
Lack of power
Insecurity
Broken heels
Broken homes
And others
He had no reason for such complaints
He knew nothing about all that
He had never experienced such
Unknown to him were his parents
The streets fathered him
And hustle was his mama

This tank was now his home
The micehis tenants
Alone he was at Christmas
Alone and hungry
Alone in the cold
Alone in his tank






By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz



© SylviaChika 2013




Tuesday, 24 December 2013

Sing Me a Sweet Carol



Sing me a sweet song
Sing me a sweet carol
Sing me a sweet Christmas song
Sing it to me with gracious melody
Sing it to me
Sing and do not stop
My heart leaps in anticipation
I hunger for your sweet voice
A rare gift from our Maker
You sing so well
You sweeten my heart
You cause the dark clouds to sail away
You bring sunshine into my life
Sing to me
Do not shut your lips
My sweet nightingale
Sing to me again
Repeat the song
Over and over again
Alert my senses with sweet music
Cause me to shiver in joy
I’m sailing
Sailing far far away
Away with all the music notes
Far away in Christmas bliss!




By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz



© SylviaChika 2013

Friday, 6 December 2013

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A KING



The story that tore his heart…
It started with “once upon a time”
And ended with “Alas he became king”
He felt so horrible
He tried to hold back tears
But they spilled freely
He couldn’t contain his emotions
A sob turned to a hysterical cry
The piece of paper was getting heavy
It was peacefully absorbing the salty drops
The story tore his heart
The tale broke his heart
It was so true
It carried the truth
But just like quinine
It was hard to swallow
The writer just sat there
Staring at him
Watching his every reaction
The writer was shaken
And then the writer had a strange expression on his face
The writer did not expect such a story
A story from a man who oozed confidence and royalty
The king didn’t realise how difficult it would be
How difficult it would be to read his own story…his true story
This was the story of his life
The story of a little pauper turned king
No one was given the privilege to see him this way
He never let himself get this emotional
He was strong and wise
He was the king of his nation
But this writer had found his weakness
“His story written in ink”
The tears had stopped
But the writer was still in shock
He took a deep breath
He picked his sceptre
Majestically he stood
With a gentle stride
He approached the writer
Fearful yet hopeful he handed the writer the last page
And with shaky hands the writer received the last page of the book
“Print and distribute! Let them know their king!”
With these words he left the room
Leaving the poor writer alone in the auditorium
This was the beginning of the truth
A priceless story of the king’s unfathomable shine
The true story of a great king
The autobiography of a king





By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz






© SylviaChika 2013




Thursday, 5 December 2013

I LOVE YOU IN A MILLION CHILDISH WAYS





Far
Far away
I wish to go
I wish to go far
Far away with you
To be with you
To be with you and you alone


I have dreams
Beautiful dreams
Colourful dreams
I see a rainbow
I glide from one end of the rainbow to the other end
We glide together
Oh such silly dreams!


You are my friend
You are my best friend
You make me feel safe
A man you are
A man who loves me
I feel peace
You give me peace


I say so little
You talk so much
But the words I speak are always true
No tales
Just truth
I’ve said I love you so many times
In a million childish ways


A shy tongue
My shy tongue cuddles my words
Sometimes I wish I could talk as much as you do
To rattle about life and love
But my shy lips just form a curve…I smile
And then I look away
That is my own way of saying “I love you”





By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz





© SylviaChika 2013

Saturday, 24 August 2013

SHOT DEAD!



One look
One hard intense look caused it all
A look through the eyes and straight into the soul
A look at the face of the villain
He became restless
Panicking…pulse racing
He sort for the solution
His hardened form panicked visibly
He knew it
She was memorising his features
He decide to end it all
To leave her lifeless
No testimony
No bars
With her purse in one hand
He lifted his tool of revenge with the other hand
The fear in her eyes
The shock
Brown eyes shaking in confusion
Pupils fully dilated
The tears pooled in her eyes
Her hands shook
Her face was pale
She was shaking her head
Left to right
Right to left
Silently protesting
But he had his mind made up
There was no time for talk
His cold heart felt no mercy
Forgiveness was far from him
She closed her eyes
He assessed her frail being
He couldn’t change his mind now
She had seen too much
Tears rolled down her bony cheeks
And then he pulled the trigger
One shot
She crumbled to the floor
Her frail body now almost lifeless
No more tears
Content with his actions
He fled quickly from the scene of the crime


By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz



© SylviaChika 2013