Stories and Poetry

My Name Is Ichabod Crane – Poem

18th-century-soldier

There is no Mason not too great,
Splendid his name or evil his reign,
My name is Ichabod crane,
Well a good fight no mercy to gain

A friend does live and another will definitely fall,
Be it time come the crowd hail ;Ichabod crane!
O’ he led the wars and never subdue his gaze,
Him they say “Ichabod the Sage”

There is no joy in winning wars but pain,
Blood for blood ;stain had earth floor ;his Sons now rage,
There’s more love for blood and more hate,
A blood slain to his piteous grave.

O’ hail him; Ichabod crane whence he came,
“His eye sees the earth and speak death”
His heart feels pity for them and they seek his bread,
His ears claim he knows the devious Kents;
So say he Kents are Men who kill on Men’s bed

“I ; Ichadod crane, not I speak but good as this Men sage,
They spoke and hail my name and whom’s me to bend,
Their enquiry are certain for blood but wield’eth me passionate and kind,
They hope that Crane save and will break,

Here i stand before you as a Crane,
Here i knee before you to save,
Your heart should not give in to rage,
Your sons should not see you abhor me;
because I denied your request; ’cause of your hate.

 

 

A Poem by Idibia Peter (Geoffery), a Pharmacy Student of Obafemi Awolowo University. His hobbies include writing poetry, playing chess, listening to instrumental music and reading novels. His previous poems include: Songs of Solomon, Amazingly, A Nation, Unhappy Soul and Humanity.

For well written Poetic piece and drama scripts, you could also contact Idibia Peter.

A student, Part-time Blogger, freelance writer and an OAP. Want to know more about me? click my social media links.
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