TEZO DIGITAL

The day I came out you received me your son, little did I know you won't be there to see me grow to guide me through life... Like a man watch me learn help me earn do all I can through life... With zero breaks make mistakes stay awake And together enjoy the cake. My champion..

Today, I sat down  In the open,  On my porch  Quietly appreciating  A master at work  Above me,  A long ways off,  Lay her tools,  In any case,  She crafted it with deep blue  I saw her,  The Master,  With utmost care and diligence,  Plunge her brush in gold,  What's more, seconds after that,  I saw it shining brilliantly,  Bundle of light,  Winking at me,  Through the blues  I could feel,  The sun  The glow of its kiss,  On my brow,  I shut my eyes,  Also, rested  Around early afternoon, the delicate breeze  Furthermore, light downpour  Broke my rest,  I woke up,  To see the Master  Still busy working…  Every one of the exhibitions  On the planet,  Every one of the specialists set up,  Can't coordinate  Up to her brush's stroke  I could see  The cotton-like mists,  The outline of birds flying, ...

A view from my window sheets, On a lazy Sunday morning once more.  Few downpour drops on the window ledge  Post downpour, the climate so chill.  The group on the roads are lesser than usual The bus station has just a couple of travelers,  The usual hustle clamor of the matatus is unwitnessed,  Why not! Isn't Sunday intended to simply sit back, relax and have a great time.  However, there are additionally bustling individuals on the streets  Decked up and hastily catching with the bus,  Then, at that point there were additionally the less lucky newspaper delivery guys, For whom Sunday resembles a regular work day.  Observing all these while sipping my hot cup of tea  Life appears to be relentless and we like hard worker,  At the point when I glance back at my room on this lazy Sunday  Just to discover my sweet lovely woman, how soundly asleep she lays!

Arise Sunday morning as daylight is showing up,  And beams on the hills through the delimiting trees,  The skies are aglow with a range of colors,  As murmurs of cloud ride the cool delicate breeze.  Sing for me you songbird for your tunes resemble silver,  What's more, welcome the new day with pleasantness and love,  Open my window and take in the excellence,  What's more, convey me forward to the sky above.  Look after the nation as shadows are blurring,  The slopes somewhere out there and fields waving gold,  Consistent with my heart continually yielding such delight,  Also, capture the second with sights to see.  As butterflies sail through the nurseries of blossoms,  An image of the beautiful sun with limitless elegance,  Streaming before me in streams so reviving,  So kind to my fingers and cool to my face.  Grateful Sunday morning the church bells are ringing,  And calling to adore they peal thro...

Every day early lights loaded down with privileged insights.  The morning dews are precious stone balls,  each holding a mysterious trailer of  a section of the day.  The birds, chipping unendingly,  tattle among themselves about the  great things you'll find at  the weekend market.  In the cleft between the sun's  virginal light and last night's shadows,  an old companion hangs tight for a  booked possibility of experience,  bearing an endowment of past memories.   New blend trickles into the carafe of your  old coffee machine, tapping out  a Morse code of the new  considerations and sentiments that will permeate  into your mind in the hours to come.  And, the blinds surge with echoes  of the laughs to be giggled.  The day is waiting to admit  its great plans for you. GOOD MORNING.

You try to tempt me  With the smell of espresso and pancakes.  I cover my head further under the covers  And, disregard your ploy.  Naked, I stroll into the kitchen,  My turn to trick you.  I run back to the bed and dive underneath the covers,  Laughing.  The pancakes are cold,  I win.