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
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