Two Musings; Your smile and African nights

1. Your Smile

Your smiles are wonderful, they tickle my soul
It takes me to heights of love, brings me to joy
When you smile, you remind me of the Rose
The parting of your red lips a memory to behold

In your beautiful warm smile I find an embrace
It spoke of speeches untold, reverred and blessed
And tells me more of you that I never have known
But in all, your smiles are exotic, pretty to the eyes

2. African nights

In the morning the mild golden sun rise above the huts and hills
Painting the corn fields yellow and making the streams shimmer
Upon the flowing rivers it glitters, till the dead end below a tree root
Big fishes stay ready to strafe up to pick insects off the tree barks

In the hamlets, dogs chased dogs, children played here and there
Men and boys went towards the great forests beyond the hills
To check hidden traps tucked away or tend to their farms needs
Girls pounded yams, making dishes with bush meat from the hunters

In the evenings, the children and elderly gather to tell night tales
When the moon light shine and the airs are soothingly mild
Everyone who wished to hear the tale of the night sit for it
And when it is told, even before the tales end many went snoring…
Now Africa

Reach my hands
Help me stand firm
Draw me close to Your embrace
Let me see the beauty of Yout Love

Teach my heart
To do the needful
To slay not time in any way
But to master the seasons of wealth

Touch my words
That I may speak only wisdom
Let my lips heal, paint love, draw warmth to all
Let my speech dry the tears of the broken

Take my feet to places,
Where the sands are gold
That I may behold beautiful lands
And savor the strength of the young Cheetah

Give me strength, give me…
Trust me with Your power
That I may soar above the skies
Let me be what Your Love is

Musing: Sweet and Sour

Bent, folded I returned to my own self
Baking in the euphoria of failed love itself
Shivers accompany thoughts, rented worries
Revived just to welcome the sad, old self
Moments are lost when smiles were love,
When winks, faces said how much I cared

Transform me back, if I have no soul at all
Let the toils of failed love refresh my hopes
Let me live to love without remorse

the tryst

“Come my tryst, come my lover…”

I made you my love, and it come in form of a rare bead
Which you wear in the heart of your hearts
Where memories fall and rise, play and replay in ecstacy
My own joy is not built upon your beautiful face,
I am graced to have a soul refined, pure and pretiful

Permit me to write this poem upon your back
Let my pen be your guest this evening of wonderful airs
Throw your hands up, watch me sing to you of the Frog
Of the Willow Tree and the queer Nightingale which sang

I invite you to a two man drama; not Romeo’s, not Juliet’s
Just you and I, under the full grey moon shine
Stand aside, let me show you the new dance I learnt
Come nearer and let us see our faces, even closer
Come let me tell you of my love and how loving you set me free…

Nothing excites me more…
Nothing reveals truly your love

It is hidden like the tendrils
Beneath the Oak trees barks
But yet when this tryst comes
I know I am loved beyond measure