Adeeyoyo's Blog

I write what I feel…




Dong….. dong….. dong…..
In the distance of my mind
I hear the church bells ringing
Dong….. dong….. dong…..
The deep melodic tone, calling, calling
Mellow, hollow, resounding
In memory’s echo chamber


Hurry, scurry, we can’t be late
Children stumble at a half-run
Biggest in front, smallest behind
One on a bicycle drags his foot
Slowing himself in order to wait
While the last little boy kicks stones
On the ground with his boot


Dong….. dong….. dong…..
In the distance of my mind
I hear the church bells ringing
Dong….. dong….. dong…..
The deep melodic tone, calling, calling
Mellow, hollow, resounding
In memory’s echo chamber


©Denise G Allen, 22 July 2014 07:27


Are We…


Are we who we think we are
Or do we change our skin,
Like a chameleon,
In order to fit in and win
The popularity contest,
Mr, Miss or Mrs Cool-hip?

Do we, in fact, hide what’s inside?
Do we show the ‘real me’, the reality?
Or do we only reveal
What we want you to see?
Truth or fiction, perfect diction
Displayed without, but what’s within?

Stripped down to bed-rock
Base core, no more,
Allow us to show our true colours,
Expose ourselves,
In order to clothe ourselves
In authenticity and sincerity.


©Denise G Allen, 10 March 2014 14:15


The Womanizer


Enraged –
Clothes flying from the cupboard
To the suitcase on the bed –

I’ve had enough!

I’m leaving!

No more!

Four little hands
Hold on to her skirt

Mummy, please don’t go!

Mummy, please don’t go!

How history…
Repeats itself…


©Denise G Allen, 16 December 2013 07:43


All’s Well?


Two a.m. and all’s well,

Christmas hies towards us

Ever faster year on year,

Shops are overflowing fit to burst

But many have no penny in their purse.

Insatiable greed has pushed the goods

Beyond the means of common folk

And many struggle to buy food

But look on helpless while others cream the fat

And steal the grub from out the mouths of babes,

God’s message to us all of love and faith

Forgotten in the struggle to survive.


©Denise G Allen, 12 November 2013 02:13


Praise Our Father


A poet weaves his words…
A painter blends his shades…
To praise the wonder of God.
Impossible to say… impossible to do…
We cannot even begin to envision
His glorious be-ing.
We are as no-thing
Comparing brain to brain,
Heart to heart, or
Soul to soul.
He is all.
We are as the blind who read without eyes;
Or the deaf who hear without ears;
Or the lame who run in their dreams.
We know our Father loves his children –
Whatever infirmities they may have –
And we should have faith and return His love
A hundred thousand fold.


©Denise G Allen, 21 October 2013 08:47


What Right


What right have we

To be self-satisfied?

Do we really want our offspring

To be mirrors of ourselves?

Is it good enough for them ~

The best of us, or the worst of us?

We train our children to think

IN the box ~ or not to think at all!

Don’t rock the boat!

No freedom of thought ~

What a blunder ~

Farting against thunder!

Education is just masturbation

Stroking your ego for a job not done.


©Denise G Allen, 26 September 2013 06:29


Passing Ghosts


“…just someone i used to know

when we were young…

he wouldn’t remember me…”

~ or would he?

anyhow, we’re different people now

lots of water under the bridge

lots of highs and lows (tides too)

we treated each other bad

you know, young and care-less

too shallow were we

rushing from one date to the next

looking for Mr Right

then settling for Mr Wrong

played Happy Families for a while

dad taking snapshots ~ smile ~

then off hunting for his lost youth

in short skirts…


©Denise G Allen, 21 June 2013 14:37




History is a tree with many branches

Laid out by our Father for us to see

Just exactly where we stand,

Without being side-tracked

Or led astray on our way.

We should be meek as lambs,

Innocent and trusting as babes,

Basking in His love and grace,

No airs of arrogance, nor of dominance,

But full of humility;

No second-guessing, but accepting

His will for our lives.


©Denise G Allen, 13 June 2013 09:55


Innocence Departed


I don’t believe

…that children have no conscience

I don’t believe

…that children don’t know right from wrong

So innocent and trusting

that the world will leave its muddy footprint on

I do believe

…that children come from God

…that their first lies are caused by fear

Huge eyes are filled with wonder

Before the cracks in trust appear

Before they learn to hide their face

Before the mask falls into place


©Denise G Allen, 10 June 2013 07:47