I request only for a little moment, to rest, to sit at your feet, to learn from you.
Indulge me. You are no nabob. No peddler of nitwit ideologies.
Of superficial buffoonish things.
Indulge me, though I have much to do.
The things I have not finished, I shall complete afterward.

Far removed from the glow of your face I know neither rest nor respite,
for my endeavors morph into perpetual toil in the vast ocean of competing toils.

Now, spring knocks at my door. It sighs. It murmurs.
The Hornets, and cockroaches in futility, try to open my windows.
And after they fail, they ply their mischief in the orchestra of the blooming commons.

Mother, before you. I sit, pensively, quietly. Staring into your placid eyes.
To dedicate this life; my life to higher and greater things.

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A little about me and poetry

This poem is my submission to the School Poetry 100 Day Challenge hosted by Hive account@d-pend, whom I would like to thank for sponsoring this competition. He is indeed a godsend. Though a bit dubious, I would consider myself an intermediate writer of poetry. My first love is prose, so if you get a feel of something other than verse in my poetry that is why. I use poems to assist me when I have writer’s block. This strategy, however, seems to be morphing into something more serious. At least I think so.

Thanks for reading.

Poem by: Hive account@nicholas83

Date: 5/30/18

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