Chommisky sweetie 

This alluring enduring figure of eight

For whom my importuning prays to be her

Mate

Am I not a prisoner of her silky

Looks?

Me who does not play by the books

Her height, an iroko tree, reaching to the sky

As tall as her ambition so high

As her steps, like wacko jacko’s, waltz

Calyco dance

So, vain swains want to take their chance

Isn’t she a sweet orange peeling off her rind?

Showing enormous mountainous behind

This exquisite rara avis a great find

And images of her filling my mind

Her paw-paws, erect like an Aryan nose,

Red-ful

Suckling lives youngish-old a mouthful

Kissing silks rhythmically

Heaving, like agama lizard, musically

Her nature’s fur smooth to my touch

Tingling tickling my senses so much

Its colour the velvety brown

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The sight of which drowns my dolour

And frown

Behold her divinely finely visage

Today’s Romeos very rage

Not blemished by fast travelling age

In the visage a prototype of African nose

With her lips opening and closing like flower rose

And the dentition so bright and white

Like Europe’s snow’s bite

Breaking into frothy toothy smile

As we walk our earth’s tortuous mile

An angel of grace

The regal legal queen of our place

A specimen true of the race

Who keeps the pace in our space

What a companionable staff she’s in troubled time

With whom like clock our hearts chime

Garlanding my temple with handsome advice

That repels like bullet proof vests my vices

The therapy of her jokes

Fill my being to feel like coke

That lifts me to mount ecstasy

Where I fly and ply the trade of fantasy