Queen Poem by Kewayne Wadley

Young black queen, grasp your throne as it rest's above the stars,
Let your voice reign like the clouds that roll across the sky,
Without thunder to envoke wrath,
But With rain that spreads her gifts without asking much,
As nothing material can feed your passion,
Satisfied with the growth that occurs each day, as there is not just one day that equates to the endless bounds you've leaped,
With other lovers, there is no comparison,
Her love is one to praise,
As the stars that glisten by her side,
The many planets that make up her throne,
When she sings, the halo's that shine above the angels head grow brighter,
Sheading light from the torch of your finger tips,
The most precious commodity,
As without you,
None of this would exist,
A fire that spreads in not just one direction,
But all,
As your soul is a pilar of strength given to us from the most high,
As a gift such as yourself should be cherished,
As there is no reason to be ashamed of your perfect skin,
Never, ever be afraid to reach for the stars,
As in your eyes lies the universe,
Young black queen