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Poetry

Poetry

Malaika

It’s not easy these days,
to find a woman with royal ways.
A queen with an Afrocentric self worth,
and a mind full of the gems of the earth.
But when all hope seemed gone,
I found her at the break of dawn.
Stood with her hips wrapped in kente fabric,
my heart said ‘yes’ and my hands ‘I gotta have it’.

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Poetry

Seasons Change

The road to hell is paved,
with good intentions never saved.
And so it seems our affair has reached,
a winter of discontent that can’t be breached.

The once joyful present is now marching,
toward a distant past, with my soul left starving.
The hurt you caused that I restored,
seems lost in your spring mission to go ignored.

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Poetry

Rum

Her spirit was like rum to me,
a golden kaleidoscope of wisdom and beauty,
with a disclaimer that read ‘handle responsibly’.

From the moment I saw her, I knew I had to be wary,
a slim thick frame with a skin tone as sweet as black cherry,
I approached her confidently and she introduced herself as ‘Mary’.

‘Mary St Claire’ to be exact,
harnessing an essence of beauty, no man could subtract,
she was an Afrocentric woman I had to tie down to a long term contract.

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