Just weeks into your journey, storms rolled in,
But side by side, you chose to begin;
A life not built on ease or chance,
but on faith, and love’s enduring stance.

Through trials that came so early and strong,
You proved your hearts would still belong;
Not just in joy, but in the pain,
You stood and rose again and again.

Forty-one years have come and gone,
yet your bond shines steady, sure and strong.
A story of courage, love, and grace,
In your strength, we find our place.

Happy Anniversary

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A Love That Weathered Time

In honor of Mr. Felix & Mrs. Elizabeth Eze

Forty-one years, side by side,
Through rising storms and shifting tide;
You held on tight, through joy and strain,
Enduring seasons sweet and years of rain.

Five children raised with love so deep,
Through sleepless nights and dreams to keep;
Your hands have built, your hearts have grown,
A legacy that's well and truly your own.

You've faced the fire and walked the night,
Supporting each other through the fight;
The world threw shadows, tests, and fears,
But strong you stood—despite the years.

Not just in sunshine did your love shine,
But even in the dark, it proved divine;
In every scar, in every sigh,
You found new strength to unify.

So here’s to love that still holds true,
To all you’ve done, to all you do;
Not just a marriage—but a flame,
That time and trial could not tame.

Together, always, hand in hand,
You faced what few can understand;
Felix and Lizzy, what joy, what grace—
A bond the storms could not erase.

© Pendullum

Happy 41st Anniversary!
Your love is a testimony, your journey an inspiration.

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A Life of Quiet Fire

His name is whispered with respect,
A man whose path we all reflect.
Our Fidel—so strong, so deeply wise,
With love forever in his eyes.

Since two thousand and one, he took a vow,
He still holds it firm, still keeps it now.
Through every year and every test,
He gives his all, he gives his best.

He traded dreams for daily bread,
And held in tears he never shed.
He walked through fire without a sound,
So we could dance on safer ground.

As morning comes, he rises again,
To face the sun, to bear the strain.
No riches claimed, no titles sought,
Yet wealth in love is what he brought.

His hands may show the years gone by,
But in his heart, the eagles still fly.
He built a world where we could grow,
With faith that only fathers know.

To our Fidel—husband, father, guide,
A quiet strength we hold with pride.
A life of quiet fire, a soul so pure,
With honor worn and love so sure.

© Pendullum

Written for Mr Fidel Onwumelu at the
behest of his wife, Dr Ifeoma Onwumelu,
on the occasion on their 37th Wedding Anniversary.

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I and my father are one...

We are little branches:
bent, bruisded, broken,
yet thriving and
growing from the crevices
of a time gone by and
an era yet to come.

We are light and darkness,
yet our differences make us
exactly the same, as we transcend
the seemingly irreconcilable differences
between his personality and mine.

We are two but we are one.
We share the same weaknesses
and fall for the same flaws;
Yet I am better than he is,
and he is more than I'll ever be.

I may pretend to be
my own man all I want;
But what am I, if not mainly
a replica of his DNA;
a collection of his
best and worst parts?

© Pendullum
Happy Father's day.

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With sultry eyes that fix
leaves macho men gasping ,
Sweet laughter that sends shivers
down thousands of spines,
And a mesmeric smile that turns
ordinary carbon into diamond.
You are beautiful beyond measure,
Pure and pristine inside and out,
The rarest of rare jewels,
With a heart of gold and
Silly skin like sapphire,
A woman Kings would kill for.
Now I know why the
second stanza of our
former national anthem
began with the words:
Oh God of creation,
You are proof that indeed,
God dey create!

© Pendullum

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Everyone says I dodged a bullet with you,
but I think I shot the gun;
Everyone says you'll be the death of me,
but I think I died long ago.

© Pendullum

-

Achalugo

A woman of numerous talents,
Gone through fire yet without dents,
One who doesn't know the meaning of ego,
The only Achalugo finer than Darego.

A woman of prestige and grace,
In no regard is she out of place,
Comelier in person than any photo,
The only Achalugo finer than Darego.

A woman of incredible strength,
Her kindness knows no length,
Her love is better than winning the lotto,
The only Achalugo finer than Darego.

A woman who loves God and her neighbours,
One who owes no one any favours,
So peaceful, she never brings any woe,
The only Achalugo finer than Darego.

A woman as Marvellous as here name,
One who treats big and small the same,
With a big heart whiter than snow,
The only Achalugo finer than Darego.

© Pendullum

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BEAUTY IS THE BEAST

She's a goddess, with the voice of angels,
That voice that gives life to all of my cells;
Its melody is pure: heaven on earth,
Its so beautiful, it will be my death.

Of all her assets, that voice is special,
Her warmth is ice-cold, it's almost glacial;
Its cadence can revive a dying man,
Moving him from fire to frying pan.

I fell in love with the voice, not the girl,
She was hideous but that voice hid it well;
This here, was the world's greatest injustice,
Why would a doctor run a law practice?

Beauty is the beast, what a gripping prose,
Her face pushed me far; her voice held me close.

© Pendullum
#Pemdullumic_sonnet

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SHAKESPEARE'S SONNET 18 REWRITTEN

Shall I compare thee to a winter's night?
Thou art become frosty, frigid and fierce.
Bone-chilling blizzards, this period doth blight,
Thy caustic words doth indeed my skin pierce.

Sometimes too thick this gift from heaven falls,
And always doth its white hue coruscate.
Like cancer, thy hostile behavior galls,
Mine joy, thou art all out to terminate.

But thy devilish plan will not succeed,
Nor shall thy sinister agenda thrive.
I can't tell who hath sown this bitter seed,
But a wedge between us, they will not drive.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long as I live, you belong to me.

© Pendullum.

-

If my pillow could speak,
It would tell you how unbearably it labours,
Lines of tears would roll of its beak,
As the weight of my head breaches its harbours.

It would tell you how unbearably it labours,
playing the role of my unofficial therapist,
As the weight of my head breaches its harbours,
And I force it to listen to my day's gist.

Playing the role of my unofficial therapist,
It embraces my pain, frustration, and guilt,
And I force it to listen to my day's gist,
Regaling it with sobs which make my heart tilt.

It embraces my pain, frustration, and guilt,
Bestowing on me its warmth and comfort,
I regale it with sobs which make my heart tilt,
Yet it never fails to calm me by calling sleep forth.

Bestowing on me its warmth and comfort,
Lines of tears would roll of its beak,
Yet it never fails to calm me by calling sleep forth,
If only my pillow could speak.

© Pendullum
#Villanelle_poem
#Marathon2025_day24

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