8. when My Pregnant Soul Sat Morose Poem by MATTHEW ADJEI

8. when My Pregnant Soul Sat Morose



When my pregnant soul sat morose
(In brood like a beaten child)
For want of a secret rite
There in your beauty you sat and smiled

When my world came crashing down
Into the shocking sea of clouds
There you stretched your secret wand
And dispelled my gloomy doubts

When I lost the strand of my tale
And stood confused like a stranger
I read the message in your eyes
Which dissolved the danger

But when I woke from the reverie
To continue the poetic theme
There you have dissolved
Like a fortnight dream

Oh lady, you are an enchanted paradise
A labyrinth of confused delight
The more I drink from your fountain
The more I sicken my appetite

And thus I starve for want of love
For how many days should I wait in vain
To nurse my love in hopeless dream
Like a stone beaten in the rain?

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