African Lady



She is tall

Very tall

She’s a giant

Her fingers big but not swollen

Her legs like the elephant’s feet

Weapons of mass destruction they are

Dark colored

She’s thick skinned

Stunningly dark

One that can’t be pierced through

Even by sharpest of knives

She’s got full hair

Thick like sambisa forest

Wooly and good textured

Like a crown on her head

It seats there gracefully

The hair has its habitation on every possible space on her skin

She’s the domain of ‘it’

She’s tough

But she’s got a good smile

Her lips part wide as the oceans

Revealing her white,strong, 32 soldiers

Releasing a thrilling sound

That can melt the hardened

She’s a symbol of beauty

Carved out of pain,struggle,and tears

She wakes at dawn

And puts her house in order

She carries her basket to the market early

To her buyers

She has strong resilience

Her breast is gracious

Full,not sagging

Firm and beautiful

Her nipples thrust out like a spear

Like a snake ready to strike its enemy

Round and dark they are

Her hips are bold,beautifully curved

Writing the number 8

Her buttocks big and round

Her heart warm and kind

Full of love and care

She looks strong

But she can be easily swept away by the ocean of emotion

She loves her lover

With the last drop of her blood

And gets easily jealous when his attention

Is taken from her

She rings his phone every second

And thinks of him when he’s away

At night she dabbles on her bed

And spells his name in the air

She dreams of carrying his babies

Giving them suckle at day

And HIM suckle at night

For she thinks

‘My breasts are his’

She’s strong willed

A symbol of strength

She’s full of scars

But she’s not scared of having more

For her zeal controls her reasoning

She worships a God

A God she’s never seen

She sings to Him

She believes in Him

Her God favors her

She treats the poor like her God would

She is down to earth

Hospitality is her watchword

She’s the pride of everyone
Year in year out

On a day like this

She grows older

She becomes the woman she ought to be

She’s grateful to her God

Drinks and Meat surround her table

She makes merry

She celebrates purpose

Many things to be said about my lady

For she’s an idol of greatness

But the pen will take a bow to write another year


Celebrating Miss Idara as she clocks +1 today.May the blessings be!!!


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