Oke Christopher (ibadan, Nigeria)
Lovely princess of life,
She, the genuine beauty of existence!
Nary is her kind rife,
For she is the wild and the garden in the fence!
Beloved's voice is the music of the breeze,
By night on my bed I see the silver lining of her eyes in the moon,
Memories of the taste of her red almond lips robs my heart of its ease
Even the waving of the hair dotted with red foliage that makes me swoon.
My heart! I would buss your chest!
Even to reach your soul!
But for these heaving hills beneath your vest
Dotted with little even debonair boulders and crowned with the glory of coal.
Prithee my lady, as I ride you on this long black finger,
Let me find the renown black forest of peace,
That soft haven of hairy heather,
And there shall my imbroglio find its release.
Lady of love, let us sport together in the dark,
Or below yon' winking luminaries,
'else the universe be consumed by our tindered spark
Or our frolic forbidden by vicious decrees!
Let us strive, together, to detain our breath
With fervour, to abide in this furnace of ardour
till, my princess of the earth,
We sail speedily into the sunset where awaits no censure.
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