As I write
she sits on a porch blowing wind at the trees
speaking in a language foreign to my ears
admiration ensues..
she bends tree trunks with her native whispers
behind every strong man you'll find a weakness for her
her eyes lure me into a covenant
Hers forever...no doublethought
Ayo Nisha'
they'll never figure us out, my love...
& with 3 sweet kisses
bids me
Adieu
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem