Joy's Poem

Complain we may, much is a mess

Hope went past our feet to the springs

Those days were ill ones, nothing sure is

But your love is wrapped with ours.

As we think continuously of those who were great,

Who, from the womb, remembered the soul’s history.

The desire to nibble the hearts of the Africans

But what is precious is never to forget

The essential delight of your Godsent work.

Breaking through the soils of Africa,

The love and sacrifice you gave to them

And to give them a living and ability

But you left the vivid air sing of your name.

And now I declare to pass and complete

The desires of your heart for the African child

To fulfil the desire your heart wanted to

Your family misses you.

By Joy aged 18 Kumi Hospital