To Love And To Die Poem by Hannington Mumo

There's a soft-toned gal who my heart has stung,
How to live without her I do not know,
I see her and I feel a great push to kiss and hug
Yet I am held by the shackles of wedlock.

Her praise is such a difficult task,
You would assign volumes of books
To the description of her smallest part,
And still fail to describe her looks.

But I'll use a stanza for each of these,
And depict her real bewitching charm;
Her eyes will scorch the coldest of hearts
For they glare and her beauty confirm.

Her neck's well-measured and straight,
The kind they say was made first thing
On the Creation Day as the other tasks lay in wait,
When the Creator was freshly ingenious.

Her hips gyrated like in a calculated rhythm,
You would think someone made them dance;
Well-curved and refreshing to watch and ogle,
You would die to feel them with your hands.

The gait, the style, and the smile
All combined to give her the difference
That Nature had so easily given her,
And the same denied her friends.

And though I'm bound to a friend and neighbor of hers,
I shall continue to adore and cheer and hold
Onto this beautiful nymph of prettiness rare;
With confidence love, and kiss with affection bold!