Isabelle Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

The melody of the harp and the lyre is like,
The melody of your sweet love oh Isabelle! !
So, use only oyur eyes to look at me and,
You will fell my love inside you.

The lovely ones,
The peaceful ones,
The careful ones,
To the hills of Galilee! !

To the best fields of love,
Over, cover!
And like the imaginations of our hearts.
Love!
The end result of it.

To a point,
Stretched out! !
Being refined like gold;
To the open door!
of the test and trials;
In honour and glory!
Dream, ream, stream, team, steamm, beam, cream.