If Only You Knew

If only you knew what you are, You will hung your shoulders atop The skies, and Suspend your head in the heavens. I will tell you, For an umpteenth time, and With right honors, Madam, You are formidable, like The fleet arrayed in the blue line. You are rare, like The jewels of Chappal Waddi. You are the sweet chill of dusk, When the heat of the harmattan Silenced on the mundane; It swift in a gentle whirl, Into my nerve, and Stir the fevers clogging in my vains. You may wish to know, or not; You as with Anyawu, the sun Will not cast to the reverse, Your winks of scorches, certainly not For a thousand prays, curses, and best wishes; Wherever it willed, It shined perfect, or Gloomed in a lengthy slumber.