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Ten things

There are ten things
I love about your body
First is from the cradle
Of your pacific eyes
Second is your beautiful smile,
That sparkles like the stars
Third is your gorgeous hair,
Dark as the night, long and silky…

Fourth are your amazing lips,
And kisses tasting like honey
Fifth are your miraculous palms
Whose touch lifts me higher
Sixth is your appealing skin,
Softer than the furs and wools
Seventh are your breastplates
Succulently filled with milk.

Eight is your ravishing shape
A very big figure eight
Nine; your straight hot legs
With steps blazing like fire
Ten is your innocence;
Damn! you are an Angel
The heavens are in trouble
You are the breeze of seduction.

Hallelujah! at times I wonder
How you fit in those clothes
Your numerous endowments
Could make the Devil repent…
I would never forget the date
Our nodes and paths crossed
It was under the blue sky,
I found you, burning the sun.

©2019 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Maiden of old times (3)

One crazy thing about our obsession
Was that, flash she ran, we saw slow motions
Basking in the euphoria of passion.
Elusive as she dressed, we could draw her
Shapes and curves, singing viva forever
Men, born and unborn would love to wife her.

Her unguilt make babies fight for her womb
Men saying; “I love you”, was like a bomb
Bringing Twilight of the gods on all tombs.
And as she heard, her sweet eyes always hide
We were all fools and love was truly blind
Not now, love is by size of rubber bands.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Somonka: Eleven questions

Men are enchanted by her glow
Even when she makes them know
That her heart belongs elsewhere,
Few bow and go, many men
Blow a fuse, and tear a drum.

But she stays faithful to one
Yet they feel she is heartless
Picking up her phone, she swipes;
How many will she delete
When they come every minute.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

A letter to every girl

Are you shy as the bongo
Because you’re not a fine fox
And flatness are of the mango
Hanging front of your hairy chest.

Like a wheel, others revolve
Hence you go for implantation,
Adding garlics to your clove
In both physical and imagination.

Flat tummy, your profound urge
Others pass, you go hissing
Why are you red and easily purge
Over apples that are not spinning.

Endowment in a true sense;
Is a little more on the left
That causes a little less
Of mass and weight on the right.

All you think is to impress,
When every woman is not a wife
Hope you know, it’s not by dress
But impartation you make in life.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Tales Of A Wife: Her Plaint Body

At the front of her
She has got that thing
That makes you feel
You are in a state of defrost
Permafrost or a frozen hell.
Then if she passes by
I swear
You will hail sunshine.

Like a willing perdition,
Тake me through hell
So long she’s there,
It is a painless pain
Pick and mix
Spectacular compliment: Sure it is!
Her body is a case
That gets a plaintiff busy.

Plethora fine,
She’s a blissful nightmares
Her body is
A keen evil philanthropist
Petrified is ugly where beautiful she is
So cute like the dickens,
Aphrodite picks up a pen
What’s the ingredient of her fine?

Phew,
With tangs of flowers,
The doves fly around her:
Oh! what a beauty;
That withers the root of setback
Without a mirror,
No eye sees itself
But her case is out of the shelf.

Young Girl’s World

young girl's World

young girl's World

Young Girl’s World

She seem a new girl from another era

Who know not of the toxin in a snakebite;

Partly Virgin Mary, partly cruel Jezebel

Blessing boys eyes with her astonishing form.

Witching and itching hearts with her skirling voice

Overdose she is when prescribed by the doctors,

Fit feet for Robin Hood and the bandits

To steal, split and give her wile to the needy;

Strange like the world strange to outer space

Boys’ even girls kiss her seducing face

Bed of roses, parting, jewels, and all she ask from all;

A perception of her time she is lost behind wall

Fit feet for Don Juan and the phonies

To charm and sham with romantic escapades.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

©2010 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com

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