Sweet Melody

Pure as she is, sweet as she is The beauteous Portia of my dream With her anchor of roses Conceived by her body of harmony. The velvety of her skin I sink Soft like fresh-ripe melon Unsullied as perfect Swan Which encapsulates beauty and love. Adorned she in her customary apparel The pride of Africa She: the citadel of virtue The Hyena of my land African woman: her glorious symbol With her countenance like a beam of light Which scintillates my nights to bear. I call her black woman, but pure black My candle is ignited by her dulcet tales I hail you, precious woman The morning star of beauty The Barnadeth of mankind.