Hello my dear?
How have life made you fair?
The nights of cold have made me bare,
and I wish I could fly back to you over there;
To cuddle your soft and well-curved skin,
and together commit our usual righteous sin.
I hope you stay warm like a catholic virgin
and to my new bed-skills, I hope you'll be keen.
Say me well to our fine teenage son,
please teach him how to not impregnate his fun.
Tell him I yearn to behold his face soon like the sun,
and make him ready to carry our coming little nun.
With love, my dearest sweetheart,
no amount of distance can pull us apart;
Even if the world sees you just like an art,
I'll strive to get to you with a thought-driven cart.
I hope to write you often my love,
Till soon, I shall continue to wear your charm like a glove.
David O. Olusanya
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is really good...