hauwa

her nose is the ootheca of an anthill
her eye is a sunset where the sun is lulled
and her hair streams down like the nile river
that such combination is suited only for a goddess

her thin fingers can hold the whole earth
her image is the shadow of eden's eve
and her smile is roundest to the oceans basin
that if a man is trapped,he is smouldered to sink

her womb is fertile as the savannah soil,
to house the offspring of the luckiest man
and who knows what man the future there holds
princes's,paupers,lords,loosers and imposters too

2
her teeth are pearls of ivory the gum holds,
that is parted in the centre as the red sea
and her skin is as the humus hue of earth
darker than the conjunction of forty nights

her limbs are lanky as the longitude of a deer,
in search of a man truelly worth his find
and her heart is a leaf hanging in a winter strand,
that if the winds blow violent,it shall fall

then when lifes misfortune has shattered her heart
her tears flourish as trees planted at a river-side
and each pellets are diamond like the stars,
as they roll out from the wilderness of her bossom

3
her stride are of mastery as water steeping a cataract
smugs of grace coat the athmosphere she steps
that years hence she strode a street
it could be fore-told her fragrance lingers on

her chest are as groomed as the pomogranate
her shoulders are broader than the borders of the bahamas
and if that she bore is cuddled in such warmth
there's nothing more a todler can want

her hands were built as an eternal cradle,
her lips are tender to produce a gentle lullaby
that can put swiftly to slumber foamed war-lords
which her beauty and guile captures as her slave

4
her skin is greasly like alabaster oil
and radiates in emulsion of the sun's emmision
a drip of her sweat cures the earths barreness
from the torcheur and torment of savage droughts

her blood is redder than the pigments of a rose
her saliva is a refreshing spring in a desert
and the lids of her eyes are ferocious as a pard
with a fire whose logs are rekindled by longing

her hobby is to fold like a lamb upon the hills
and stare upon,as the sun descends the valley
then when you put perfection into the picture of perfection
it is unfortunate to those created premature,like me

5

her face is more distinct than the marine queen
her skin has not a freckle or rash to boost
and its smoothness is as the union of the seas,
as it glides peacefully in one just accord

her temperament is as immaculate as the fleece of a sheep
from afar,she glitters like the feathers of a peacork,
or the sublime fussion of the rainbow colours
that glow after the turbulence of a hail

then if age withers roses to hags
surely it shall spare her beauty of immotality
but if winter rovers from one cosmic,to sesmic
surely she shall be dissolved in the trace of time