An ode to Dr. Wasike Chris.

Your words, Dr. Wasike Chris, like rivers glide,

Carving paths in the stone of my restless mind.

A mentor, a beacon, through storms you guide,

Your wisdom a flame in the dark confined.

Each phrase you weave ignites a spark,

A torch that lights my writer's arc.

You taught me that literature breathes and sings,

A living rhythm beneath the text.

Its beauty lies not in gilded wings,

But in the truths its words protect.

With every lecture, your voice would rise,

Unveiling worlds where wonder lies.

Not just a teacher, but a sculptor of thought,

Chiseling dreams from the raw of stone.

Each lesson, a map through battles fought,

A call to claim the writer's throne.

Your life, a story, each chapter divine,

A tale that mirrors what could be mine.

Through your counsel, my pen found its flow,

Each line now whispers your lasting creed:

"Write boldly, child, let the world know,

The power of words in hearts to seed."

Your faith in me became my own,

A fragile dream turned to steadfast stone.

Oh, mentor, whose footprints I chase,

Your shadow falls on my path ahead.

A guide, a star in this vast space,

To you, my writing soul is wed.

The ink that runs within my vein,

Echoes your spirit, again and again.

May this ode be a humble token,

Of gratitude for the light you bear.

For through your voice, truth has spoken,

And lifted me from the pit of despair.

Dr. Wasike Chris, your name will stand,

Forever etched by my writer’s hand.

©Bunguswa.™