I meet her in her mouth as poetry mingles with utopia,
The palette of her skin follows its
As sapphire mixes with alabaster.
Her magenta feet swallows dusk,
Days go on to compete, whether yesterday or today.
Her eyes slips into white roses hands and I marvel,
For when I stare, I see the ocean,
And beneath the stillness, the water roars.
Oh the fountain of ale, the primal silvered goddess.
Like a jar, she houses thighs of wheat,
She goes on to bake the splendor of
With outpouring glow …
Like wet leaves, like spiraling chillness and morning’s sun,
She disentangles the piers of crowd,
And rests her head at the unrelenting cave of the slippery water.
I grow weary praising her, sometimes
dancing at the moon’s breasts.
Whereas, the satin spills of her poetic lips,
Compliments the jewel that preens the fine halls of her home.
Butterfly juices trace her velvet palms into bloom of ripe oranges,
Yet in the valley of her legs, she
possesses the perfection of art.
Marvelously her fotress clime resembles a manicured lawn,
While her thyme’s fragrance encapsulates the wingless birds into
So much wonder, a soft resort breathing in oily pebbles.
She glistens in falls of gables across
as the maiden of passion.
Her voice is like the wren’s, sweet-
spreading secrets of running the
Oh the glory of sway and carved firmament – Honey!
Here I am, watching the sea yawn its
Yet she’s watering my garden of love and desire ever so – rapturous poetry!
© Eddy Ongili