I recall, years not far, not near,
From behind, I stopped and stare.
At a sweet sight then in nostalgic,
An African, simple like a frypan.
On sight, my boldness disappear,
She cat-walked for my eyes to dare.
Her waist caused a jam on traffic,
Her aura comes with a cooling fan.
She is a fantasy in my emotional race,
A rare, phenomenal flawless Angel.
A pretty black apple, sweet and tasty,
An attraction more forceful than gravity.
Her hairs shone sun on my dark face,
She’s an attractive goddess thick as gel.
From behind, I approached my curiosity,
For if she’s a sin: heaven would be empty.
I once had a painting
Giga-shades of adoring;
In a familiar surrounding…
Scrawling and crawling,
It was an hallmark glory
Of my sweet untold story;
In the years, I owned a lorry…
She was devil cute, but holy.
My crayons couldn’t surpass,
Her beauty wasn’t in disguise;
In the bittersweet of my past…
She was an art, a lady of class.
Sweet pretty face, with lashes,
Dark hairs, black to thickness;
In absence, was homesickness…
All boys longed for her fineness.
She is a diva, none can harass,
Well configured as a classic lass;
Innocent child, a righteous pass
She was like a visible colorless gas.
An uncommon beauty in class
Her fineness breaths new life
In nostalgia, she had hot sparks
That unfroze my ice-cold heart.
The best thing
Is as fine as sin;
Behind the glass
Is a fantastic glance.
I wish to canvass
For her bee frass;
Behind the glass,
Ferried sugar bypass…
I made plans;
Behind the glass
I got a brass;
From the bullets
Behind the glass
Is a lady of class.
Back in time, during our school days
We were classmates and even seatmates
You were so bright like the beam of rays;
And your beauty engraved my brain…
Best of the bests, you could right a wrong
Our friendship was everday, ever so strong
Unlike an uncoated iron untrusted in salt
Mysteriously, we grew refusing to rust…
When our classes were in session,
I hardly could even pay attention
Your beautiful imagery I saw and focused
Reflecting upon the wall and class board…
With my pen and breaking pencils
I drew roses and wrote you letters
So many kind words, at the end of it
I wrote in disguise; yours sincerely pest…
Each day you read from the ghosty pest
You told me how kind and sweet he was
Often he even sent you bouquet of roses
I smiled, while we both watered it to grow.
Every other day, I wrote a love poem
To you as pest; although I never meant
To be a perpetrator nor anonymous,
But, I wasn’t bold enough to tell you…
Trust me, it broke my heart you loved,
The other me; texting pest and telling me
I wondered why you never figured out,
The twist and turn of my swivel chair….
Tears burned through my hazy eyes
I never meant to be the daily heist
I often wish I could erase every ink
But I feared, lossing a seatmate and friend.
Back in school days
My best friends
Where the few people
How much I admired you…
They would often
Make jokes of it
Knew it was no lie
Had a soft spot for you…
But I was so scared
To man up and walk up
For you might say no
Forever not look my way…
These were the assumptions
I made, back in school days…
You were the sun reservoir
You were a storeroom of stars..
I saw reflections in your eyes
I tried to resist forward push
But; the magnet of adorations
In my heart,
Kept pushing me forward to you…