POETRY AS AN ART
Poetry is an art which is commonly associated with an avalanche of emotions, creative ideas and sometimes  mixture of this two. This art is also renowned for its ability to incorporate and embrace many views in the society; either social, political, personal or anything of mound importance worth sharing with the community.
It is through this that poetry has revolutionized the way things are done in the society. It has achieved this directly or indirectly. A direct way has been to encourage people to adopt right values  in order to co-exist with one another harmoniously. A quite well known indirect way that poetry has touched on people, is the immense inspiration it bears. This with time has gradually induced many attributes to its readers which in one way or another 'brings life' to them.

Bringing change, giving inspiration has always been some of our aspirations. A great motivation in any endeavor  we undertake. When attained, it does give one a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.
This blog has been created in order get in someway a fraction of the much desired change and inspiration. It is mostly about poems that have been engineered by myself.
The first poem am going to share is entitled "The Treasured Hint of Hope: part one" It generally talks about how something tiny can initiate change and give one the much needed strength.

THE TREASURED HINT OF HOPE 

A drop of water hits my forehead,
All smiles and a trifle perplexed,
I fathom out its nigh 'execution',
Of the scorching sun.
To seal my unexpected joy,
I decide to take a strained look at the sky,
Knowing I wouldn't necessarily,
Hath to cling on my skimpy,
Bottle of drinking water anymore,
Since the hot weather would be no more.
The sight is disappointingly appalling,
Plus immensely disheartening,
A complete opposite of my expectation-
The sun so comfy in a crystal clear sky,
Sans any evident sign of rain,
Either today or anytime soon.
Crushed and abate,
I turn to my only hope-
The wee drop on my brow,
Carefully, I wipe it off,
Hand aloft,
It settles on the fore-finger;
So helpless and vulnerable,
Yet it was the key,
To end my misery.
I stare at it closely,
Then take a gander,
At the ambient conditions;
The land so parched and the plants withered,
Not in the least as fortunate as I'm,
"They too deserve a ray of hope"
A voice whispers in my head,
Passively, I nod in agreement.

There will be a second part that contains the continuation.