My Beautiful Wozz-Anne
My Beautiful Wozz- Anne
Out there in the world is a girl that I once loved and her name is Wozz- Anne;
So beautiful she was, you would almost think she had come from heaven.
People, at first didn’t give me a chance to win her heart over, Wozz- Anne.
But I called her a certain afternoon hoping to prove I could buzz on.
She came to see me one weekend and we had a good time, Wozz- Anne.
I took her to my favourite restaurant to show her off the Wolves Inn.
She devoured every moment of it with great aplomb and flair, Wozz- Anne;
And I shouted to the Lord for this beautiful girl “...thank you Hozz-anna”.
Beautifully crafted with big sparkling, watery, piercing eyes, she was Wozz- Anne;
Eyes that looked at me, past me, seemingly into the mountains of Wozan.
“Why do you always stare at me like that” she would teasingly ask Wozz -Anne;
Told her those teary, blazing eyes, the window to my soul, made me doze on.
When she laughed, her eyes would laugh with her, Wozz- Anne;
So uncontrollably, so casually as if without a care in the world’s woes on.
There was always something, everything to love about my beautiful Wozz- Anne;
Even so, the nicely curved large lips that made grown men go wicc-an
She was talented, she was brilliant, I know without trying, Wozz-Anne;
Though novelty was not her specialty, beauty was her fall zone;
Love was her god of gods, her supreme virtue, Wozz-Anne.
With this love, this beauty, also came a premonition that spurs on.
Told my mum one day about my beautiful Wozz- Anne;
She danced, praised the Lord and said “...my son gotta move on”.
“Not quite moved on mum but she is playing hard to get, Wozz Anne.
Nevertheless, she is a great girl and I will fight all my foes on”
A quarrel, one day, blared up between myself and my beautiful Wozz-Anne;
A small debate degenerated into some un-amusing fiasco with clothes on.
A phone call, a text, a fax, did not trigger a response from Wozz-Anne;
Perhaps I had overstepped the mark with a big one that broke her jaw bone.
As it was, my consolation was she would come back to me, Wozz-Anne;
But days turned into weeks, and weeks into months with no words on.
I’ve slept in a drench, in the snow, but compare not with the silence of Wozz-Anne.
And seeing my face then you would have thought I’d come from a war zone.
One day she disappeared to a far away land without a bye Wozz-Anne;
Told she got hitched with a gallant whose catchphrase was “Waz on”.
Looking back then I realised she never loved me my beautiful Wozz-Anne;
Nothing could console me, not even the overtures of her sister Rose-Anne.
The Sun never smiles without bringing me the memories of my beautiful Wozz-Anne;
Neither does the moon glare without any hints; it shows on.
The wind blows everyday from the east to the west without my Wozz-Anne
Maybe I will meet her one day and learn to love her again, years on.
Comments about this poem (My Beautiful Wozz-Anne by Kuda Bondamakara )
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