Poultice Of Figs Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

The muse of life,
Prepare poultice of figs and, let me love you;
Because, i heard that, you wept bitterly last night when i left your house!
And, the muse of my heart is always towards you.

The muse of love,
With spices and oil;
And, of the olive groves and the vineyards of your land,
But, prepare poultice figs and, let me love you.

The muse of nature,
Like an iron axe head that fell into the river;
Waiting for you to pick it up again from the river,
But, i am here once again to save you with the muse of my lovely heart.