Sonnet 12: What Shall I Not Love? Poem by Folayemi Akande

I shall love not but her mortal breast
That no time or age can ever test
What is god? If not her onioned breast
For her ornate poise art seeming blest.

I shall love not but her piquant lips
And drink from her savory kisses wine
Which in time I ever tend entwine
Her rare lips brewed from lush finest leaves.

I shall love not but her starry eyes
Where-in the suave aura strenght zest
Or from her hued eyes pluck silvery lines
Such incensate things do lib'do crest.

Delish figure, taste of love's delight
Her gooey beau is of man's alluring sight.