A sweet heart
having eyes glittering like diamonds.
A face that look like the sun.
I am unable to behold the beam
when you smile, it’s like showing
a mirror to the sun
my tool to having more.
I strive to hear your Angelic bell- like voice
that creates ardor in me.
Your gorgeous hair is not incomparable
to the fleece of a lamb; soft like water.
As you walk, there’s command of-
attention! All eyes! Eyes pop- out
to watch you do, what only you know-
best to do- piki- cha, piki- cha; cat- like
as if, you are walking on a straight rope.
Your lips look like a purple apple
so succulent, whose peck
is a trip fare to heaven, feel like
being conveyed to worship He that made you
implore him, to make you, a pretty pride my bride.
Glories to him for such a lass.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006