SOMETHING FOR HER
the voice of my darling is immaculate,
swaying in the breeze as if playing a harp.
her melodies are symphonic incendiaries,
firing through the dark azure of twilight
her smile is like dewfall in drought,
massaging the cold sores of my heart,
her laughter is like a slice of Mount Zion,
feeding my soul with tranquil elixirs.
my woman is a resilient bloom of red roses,
a fragrance that defies garrulous winds.
i rejoice as her image forms in my mind,
raying like a sun rising out from dark clouds.
she is the imagination i pray to become real,
the damsel i yearn to deify in aura and grace
she is the unwritten psalm in my parchments,
full of flaws and awes, full of wows and ouchs.
Pat Ashinze,2017
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem