Earth Angel Poem by Folayemi Akande

O earth angel, O intrinsic figure,

O ye, true daughter of Jerusalem.

As a bride amongst comely bridesmaid,

So are you amongst the luscious maidens

No wonder you are fairest of them all.

Shall I compare thee to a flower that lieth by arnos?

That do not thirst nor drought come the season,

Or liken thee to freshest morning dew.

Or not, for it wears off at the sunrise.

Your beauty is eternal, night and day.

It circles with the sky, around the earth.

You do not smile, your face gloss as the day

For what wonder shall your true smile perform,

Blaze of lightning or quake, which shall you strike?

Which is roseate, your smooth lips or the rose?

For your lips wears more theme than red the rose.

The fish to the sea, thine lips to thine face;

Ver'ly can neither depart another.

If hairs be thread, golden threads grows thy head.

Your brows, well clipped as peacock plumages.

Who shall I compare thee to, God himself?

For no woman nor man measures your sum.

If only, truely, you are an angel,

Justice should make all you maidens even,

For they are mockery of your sincere kind.

Flirtatious earth, lovely things shall he embrace

Your voice is soft as your true figured breast,

You serenade dales and birds with your tone.

For upon hearing, the world stops and stare.

Shall I praise thy melons if not unruly?

Your melons are ripe as eyes of the sun,

A center stage for every eyes that dwells.

Dove's true white colour is nought as your eyes.

Ye of lavenda's scented ornament,

You rich in scent as the primerose blossom.

Your vestment is vermeloned as thy breath,

Orient me wheresought your vesselled fragrance

That I may go forth and borrow some scent

For the lasses may find me more worthy.

Your beauty stirs poor earth's serenity.

Oh, I see you put to test man's true faith,

The power of lust is rooted deep within.

Your whole shall strike an idle mind to think.

With your lustering smirk a sight for sore eyes.

Only a man who art insanely wise-

Would gaze thy melons, praise not God; great art't.

If lust be sin, so let mine be crimed

Portion my durance a multifold times.

Lifetime is but few to measure your sum.

Did you choose Rome; earth's surreal dwelling place,

To torment some men their most wanted fruit?

(c) Folayemi Akande