Written by DENNIS BROWN Have you ever looked up to see A snowflake as it falls so free The beauty that each one displays As it travels on its destined way Each flake's unique and looks its own And heads the way its wind has blown Fate can't tell which way it's bound Until it falls upon the ground Have you ever looked within to see The snowflake inside of you and me The beauty that we each display As we travel on our destined way We're all unique and look our own And follow where our wind has blown Fate determines just where we're bound Until we're buried in hallowed ground So, remember that our path in life Is unique to us filled with joy and strife And like a snowflake that begins to fall We'll find our way throughout it all © 2021

I bear the snowflakes, cutting through my veins their icy chill like knives, leaving scars all over, deep cut wounds oozing no cell sap Already frozen, a brittle leaf, I fall down to earth making a thud All I need, a blanket of love, transferring warmth, miniscule though I am aware, my glorious days are far over my pristine glory will never return. But bid me adieu, in a respectable way hold me tight in your embrace, caress my cheeks for a while rub my face with your warm palms, I wish not to go into a mound without a few tears. © 2021

MUHAMMAD SULAIMAN BULANGU DEAR BARDS Dear Bards, let's make them obnubilate battalions of people arrived and departed but thou are alive and continue to stay alive I told them thy soul will never evanesce but they respond to me, I'm "rattlebrained." If it's not true, why Shakespeare still alive? If it's not true, why Wordsworth still alive? If it's not true, why William Blake still alive? Like all these, thee too, will remain animated. Thy longevity soul that will stay animated Thou will never fleet as long as doomsday as long as this universe thou will remain alive. Now the solace of thy mind be like peace it's fair and square to continue stay animated. The echo of thy voice will last evermore The roar of thy pen has become the solution The pen is thy postured weapon of the verity Solemnly you became my better medallion and this wording will give life to thee. Be hilarious. Don't concede the harmful. I denied the parenthesis because it violates perplexedly it's irreversible. Dear bards, thou are alive and continue alive. Thou will never die until heaven pops up. © Muhammad Sulaiman Bulangu EASTERN STRANGER Eastern stranger reached me in my backyard. It comes like a nuclear weapon side-splitting all the innocent people like a terrific battle. Since I had heard from my neighbors but now you come to my side. Panic consumes my heart Eastern stranger you are lovable. I had heard the screams all over the world. I had heard the condolence telegrams all over the world. I testified the scared you have wrought and the mournful you have made. The calamity I had never met before the remarkable year I would never forget. Funeral be like wedding ceremonies loosen reams of my relatives. Rightness all over the world nor market, nor schools, countless nothingness but hospitals are not enough to save the antiques all the cities are closed like prison cells. Only condolence messages are trending on the net. World's cities become like battle environment. My condolence message goes out to you, may your gentle souls Rest In Peace. This particular one above, "Eastern Stranger", was written by the poet during the pandemic period of Covid-19. © Muhammad Sulaiman Bulangu Muhammad Sulaiman Bulangu popularly known as Msbulangu, is an infant poet from Jigawa State, Nigeria, his works have appeared in Nigerian telecommunication service, daily news, and online magazines. He is currently now an undergraduate student at Sule Iamido University Kafin Hausa Jigawa state and he was born on February 02, 2000, at Bulangu near Kafin Hausa local government.

Written by RADHIKA TYTLER Is this the stairway to heaven Hence I walk it for the genuineness of nature to provide healing to our souls compatibility to our mind in agreement with our hearts inducing our love eternity's gift to us. I shall smile at every step to reach the Gods domain I searched for peace and felt it here in a stance Imagery of nature at its best clouds to hide the fierce sun Beautiful locks of flowers on the branches shading me while I walk the stairway to heaven feeling the final journey in the anchors of my heart bringing to know that God sent heaven to earth eternity at its best curtailing her beauty for earthlings to forever share God is here In my heart In the surroundings I smile at His glory for forever I am His disciple. © 2021

Written by GORDANA ANONOVSKA A snowflake fell on a warm scarf. It melted for a moment... disappeared... One feeling, frozen in the night. He got lost somewhere far away. Between the feelings of the present and the past. Dawn day the sun is reborn. The snowflake woke up in the armpits in a flower on the little white snowdrop. the snow is gone winter is over Remaining feeling, interwoven with the scent of a cold winter. There in the armpits of the little white flower.

Written by Kawsar Khalil This is the only dead nation that enjoys Allah's wrath. They believe dry winters potent therapy to their lands. Wanting hustle and bustle thrive though out the year in Bazaars though that's a need, too. Accidents of this negligence and antithesis happens to happen against every season Winters without precipitation and snowfall with an ill hope that Springs bloom and Summers cloudy, cold and full of rain and the Fall with elephantine harvest richness of science and hollow reason but they remain forever fools our good, great ancestors were better equipped with rationality. Sapiens of this wise era say...thank God it didn't snow at all. It is not raining in March and April when the water bodies dry and leaves wilt. This deformed species begins to wail without any sorry and consideration upon the ethereal glow that spread on their faces during the dry winters and now when the wrath elongated into the Spring bountifulness of Summers came to h alt weak waterbed couldn't beautify sun-baked canopies. Everything around us is designed with a divine plan Imagine how ugly it would be if a girl bear mustaches or a boy gets girly voice so, every season has its own grace. Snowy Winter and Springs raining Hot Summer but dry Autumn is that divine plan and how can a man of clear wisdom consider himself at solace when everything is at odds. © 2021

Written by IBRAHIM HONJO You bridged the soul of the stars with death. Petrified before transience, your transplant into nothing, I received as a drop of time. Blue silence has the anchor of eternity. You were a man - little, ordinary. The fires have been burning you for years. You started life out of stone, water, roads and trees, and ended up in black ash with long bridging.

Written by KAMRUL ISLAM Your winter-colored sari indicates that you'll go a long drive at the end of the night, the persistent yellow of mustard field will appear in the north sky... Now the lamp of disappeared books and furniture of your home does not fall asleep under the canopy of agriculture... We see nothing but some helpless bees sitting at the end of the path with indivisible management of trees... A tale of a painting brush supersedes the darkness of long-march for the sake of blooming flowers of the next world... Then the winds of the less-used street sing the news of early morning and our youth of feelings recollects the unending zone of winter evening...

Written by M.D. AZIZUL HUQ Water comes to the eyes. She loves me, too. Sorrow is flowing non-stop day and night. He falls innocently. The color they are is white salty taste and bitterness. The sea will dry up my only fear. She is not ashamed seen repeatedly. Drop anytime He has no knowledge of time. He falls even while hiding The heart is in the wilderness. Fear just knows when life suffocates. How many can be deleted Corrosion in the corner of the eye. I know why tears either so ruthless.

Written by APU MONDAL A swallow sat on the border fence, calm as usual, unfazed, unaware of gunfire or hatred between humans. The day is dear everywhere as is the life lived in huts or bungalows, tasting a dry bread or a roasted steak sleeping by the air dreaming of bygone days, yes, there once was no fence nor fear, no stupid stuff about being neighbors across the fence. At night, the moon vows to shed light on liars, but they are asleep unaware in stupidity that men once were human.

Written by SHER CHANDLEY I want to sift the dust strain the waters embalmed in the earth, ashes and remains of men and women that are true gems people I did not know but just have to love. I know not what they done except to know-feel that they have lit our paths and ways.

Written by ALLAHOBHAYO DAL I went to the deep sea for the sake of finding a pearl, I found diamonds, but not as sparkling as her. I dug out the deep soil, I found a radiant gold, but I realized it's not up to her criterion. I ran to the garden, I found many colorful bouquets full of hypnotizing fragrance, but not as gorgeous as her. I went to the topmost mount cliffs, I felt a breezy wind, but not as calm as her scarfs gust. I took off to the jungle, I found a beautiful peacock, its dancing was intricate, but cannot twirl like her waist. I left for heaven, I saw many goddesses, but not as desirable. I went to the coast, I found glossy sand slivers, but not like her winking sights. Finally, I departed to the dormitory, shutting down my eyes, and I found the sweet dream in which I see the angel of death.