To The She-To-Be Poem by Ebi Robert

They say Friendship is for the mature
And Love, the tablet sent to cure,
Every distress from the curse of nature.
Simply a symbol, a product from God.

She says I do not keep
To sending her the poems when I can
That I am not there when am needed,
Always busy, busy and busy
But I know I do my heart cares
But necessity takes me away, far some far…

And so she says: "I know, only that I cannot but be sad—
When your ugly head is so afar".

Friendship is defined when it solely spells Love;
Friendship is wise when the heart loses the fight
Friendship is pure when the quarrel is once and for all.
Friendship is fun when there is teasing, and laughing for sure

Do you know who I speak of?
Do you know who I scroll for?
I will tell you...

She is the lemon dew that vanishes with the sun
Her voice is as soft as a thousand sound moving from a lemon grass;
She is the Napoleon of my manor-farm
The treasure that burns with my desire
She is my sunlight, the only star in my cloud
She is as beautiful as my mother, only that she is not fat
She is the sunset in my heart
And the moon waves in my sky
She is the Angel in my dreams; the fragrance in my cream.
She is the perfume on my sleeves, the highness of a queen
She is the dolphin that drives through the current of the sea
The different music that loud out my heart;
The pleasant sound that dresses my morning
With sweet sleep loosing careless through a thousand note of million eyes
Her voice is the freshest sound I have ever heard
She is the bud that freshens my heart
The heartbeat of my flesh
The coy bird of my secret cage;
The steward of my age.
The wind that blows in my forest;
The green leaves in my forest
The blazing flower in my golden garden;
The star that drives me to my cloud

She is Little Rose, the lady who owns me
I am a poet in your friendship store
Created to adore you my Pretty one
From head to toe she is gold
More precious than an onyx stone