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Heart of Stone

He built his dreams with fire and steel,   Through sweat and pain, through grit and will.   His path was carved with silent nights,   A war he waged beyond the sights.   But love, so sweet, so soft, so near,   Whispered dreams into his ear.   A choice was placed upon his chest—   His passion’s flame, or love’s request.   He turned away from burning light,   Held her close, embraced the night.   Yet soon he found, to his dismay,   Both love and purpose slipped away.   For goals demand a heart of stone,   And love still longs to call its own.   To chase one means to lose the fight,   To hold both tight is rarest might.   So walk the road with eyes aware,   Choose with wisdom, choose with care.   For once you drop what makes you whole,   You lose the fire—and lose your soul.
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Njaanuary


In Sheshe Village, where sherehe winds blow,
December arrives, yet cabbage lies low.
Ignored by the dwellers, their focus elsewhere,
On festive pursuits, not a leaf they spare.

But January dawns with a change in the air,
Cabbage becomes their obsession, so rare.
Embraced like a lover, in kitchens it sizzles,
From neglect in December to January drizzles.

Crunchy and green, a vegetable delight,
Sheshe Village transforms in the cold, clear night.
Cabbage, once forgotten, now reigns supreme,
In January's embrace, a culinary dream.

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