Your death swiped me like a hurricane. When I was becoming somebody in life, you left without enjoying fruits in me. I miss you as the sun misses the flower in the depth of winter, as the baby misses the breast in the depth of hunger, as the rain misses the soil in the depth of harmathan, as the tree misses its leaves in dry season. I love you but loves you more. Rest on in the bosom of the Lord. Contest patero