Sweet Genevieve Poem by Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche

Am keen to face you,
but your beauty glows like seraphs,
pangs my heart like bodkin, your eyes makes me die within thoughts,
a blush of your beauty is an epitome that sings to the storms and placidity reigns,
your blue eyes,
are ultramarine,
your apricot skin,
just evoke and folk the thundering,
sundering,
trampling thought of bliss and a smile among blossoms.
How so my Sweet Genevieve, two decades we dined among thorns and the singing heat of the tranquil sun,
your long brunette hazel hair had given me the pleasure to plait it. Why Sweet Genevieve,
do yu think I will have the courage to love someone after you?
My matrimonial companion leaving me with a sacred sacrament of marriage and
knots of speechs before the priest.