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FALLING IN LOVE

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Below is the poem entitled FALLING IN LOVE which was written by poet anguslaz anokute. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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FALLING IN LOVE

What a phlox in you I find, What a Rose Flower, oh babe: Bright like early morning sun of xmas. Succulent “things” like the rightly ripe pawpaw at my backyard. Oh Babe what a beauty you are to behold – Making gawping heads not able to eyes hold back, Goggling eyes round whole streets turning in ogle – Stupefying sensations sending down signals into phallic organs! And can I contain this fire of desire? Down my frame, too electrifying, feelings ductile, And whole system holding spellbound, as in phantasmagoria, A deep chill of early harmattan morning. Oh Babe, I can see the fiery flies of love In your luscious orbs flying, beckoning for a dear. But can I be your bee? my sweet sixteen! To your sweet red nipplenectars suck? like a suckling? What a phlox in you I find, Oh Babe, what a beauty you are to behold. And can I contain this fire of desire? Oh Babe, I can see fiery flies of love, In your luscious orbs flying, beckoning for a dear, Down my frame, too electrifying, feelings ductile, Making gawping heads not able to eyes hold back. What a Rose Flower, oh Babe: Bright like early morning sun of Xmas, Goggling eyes round whole streets turning in ogle – And whole system holding spellbound, as in phantasmagoria. But can I be your bee? my sweet sixteen! To your sweet red nipplenectars suck? like a suckling. A deep chill of early harmattan morning, Stupefying sensations sending down signals into phallic organs! Succulent “things” like rightly ripe pawpaw at my backyard: Nwanyi oma, my sweet Asaba Queen: delicious Xmas stew, I sing your conspicuous beauty, your deserving love: for am no philistine: What a feeling too conquering to contend, aphrodisiac! – A philter too difficult to contain, down my vein, my marrow! Sweetie, I adore your fine phizog amatory. Wow. A wonderful mien irresistible, cloud nine delirium tremens Down my pliant spine killing ardour sent. Figure -8 What a towering pulchritude, a pleasant statistics!

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