Minstrel Divine - Poem by Folayemi Akande
That which she did not feel, she would not sing,
A song from life's most adorning minstrel.
Her voice is crowned with melting flames of strings;
That makes heart's ears warm, dance and ever swell.
Her voice, melliflous. Where-in angels dwell;
Still her voice, see if not the world is deaf
Or of the wavery rhyme at all time elf,
Her voice is nutrient, devoid the soul gruel.
On the starry shoulder strap of the night
When fair daylight is out of hueful shine
She sings affectionately with her myth.
Slumbering to deeper sleep all ears of earth,
No no, oh no, her voice is so so fine,
None that I have heard through life's breath and lenght.
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