Ma belle femme

The scent of you lingers around my hungry  soul, 
The mountains dance with the valley in their briskly yawns, 
Paraded like the rousing sands and virgin dew, 
A mixture of sweet lament from the birds, hangs high. 
The throttled sound of a painful heart, bulges my chest 
Sick leaves drop in loosing hues, oh lovely one. 
Oh most humble, the sly air you birth – obsesses me. 
In your bell jar, the fortitude you’ve eclipsed, 
In bundles of fiery dances, the loose feet, 
From the clouds, the wings that helped the flames mold your face 
Still an infant, the genial hour, the beckoning seconds. 
Assault my breath, redirect my blood flow 
In the prizes you’ve attained, in moments you’ve shone. 
Like nocturnal stars, like the sun. You rise infinetly. 
I’ve searched for gypsy toes, the brimstone footsteps, 
The lurking fingers, the anticipating sighs 
And if jade would cover me, let it come. 
Oh muchacha, mon ange, ma belle, ma motie – 
The ring smile that covers the horizon. 

 

Like bliss that grieves, I plead my case 
The tingles, the magic that have refused to leave my hands, 
Ah girl, I don’t know why you deny it … 
Silhouettes of outspreads, the mighty Eagle stretches, 
I feel the drenched kiss still journeying across my lips 
The moments oh Carabella, the polluted divine moments by tenderness, 
I am inclined to wait forever, oh intrepid glances, the heights! 
And as if azure agonized on the absence of your smile, 
Imagine what it does to me, the triplet force makes me weep. 
I long for you, oh mother of kindness, the flower, my Notre dame 
Moving blindness, the dreary sights – a wanderer for love! 
The architecture of my happiness, the court of justice. 
Oh most notable, crown of phases, an illumination of perfection. 
The choir of my soul, the lyre that smoothens my vaults. 
The hope that chews my girdle, wharves of yearning. 
Its my longing for those crisps true moments, that keeps me alive, 
Oh girl of vibrant features, the shamrock, the frock of the blessed. 
You are the scepter of my livelihood, the intercourse of my dreams 
I’ll wait for you, I’ll deviate forever, oh deathless echo. 
The last perch, the essence of worship, the light of my soul 

© Eddy Ongili 

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