O bless my pumpkin;
Rich in beauty and in brain.
Though not brave like the grave.
Her thought flows through my liver;
As through Euphrates river,
Though I shall sit-up and watch her future so bright;
As a Knight, I shall protect her rights.
When the moon comes at noon,
Her name shall heaven boon,
As history book.
Eight years ago,
She came on the eight days,
In the eight months;
On a fine summer evening at eight pm.
A beautiful bright little pumpkin.
Ah, in my life journey,
When nothing shine upon,
My pumpkin shall be my little spark-
When I traveled in the dark.
Her destiny is a streams of stars,
Like skies at night;
So beautiful, so bright.
My blood flows deep in her vain;
My beautiful black blood-
An igala-yala origin.
Her head and hand be a gain,
Her hair shall freely flourish.
I will always rejoice in the beauty of her creation.
I was breathless;
As she was born.
She was what I wanted;
A daughter.
Neither champagne nor beer,
Had I then to offered myself for my oily throats;
But I was the happiest of men-
A father to a little beautiful pumpkin.
My happiness lies in her creation daily.
Ah, now!
She is my corridors of life,
A daughter!
Ah, in the future,
Be my laughing thunder when I cry!
Like a yam seeding she grows,
Ready for planting;
I shall sit-up awake waiting for her glory.
Now, her age is still unripe.
Like seeds waiting for the rain.
Like a Knight watching at night,
I will protect her bright future;
When the moon comes at noon-
When her boon comes at noon-
Her name shall history boon;
Rejoice and be glad my little pumpkin.
Prince Ojoka
©princeojok
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