Linda-Marie and Happy Woman
Yesterday's loud welcome
Dance of the night.
Linda-Marie's dot pens
Celebrate the happy woman
and the love lair
Spicing the world.
But not just happy woman
The ribful happy man too
Whose rib gladened
And brought her forth
To rule and relish
Since Edem times.
Happy woman, happy woman
Happy as vessel of honour
By whom we all came here
Happier for spicing the man
And blosoming the world
All by his precious glue.
The one sitted high above
Gave to us the grove
Long. Short
White. Black
Red. Yellow. Purple
Purpose dovetailed by Him.
Short arm. Longer arm
Crouching in firmness
Bending over, long siding
Caging things, climbing or falling
In proper cool or hot always
Whether in extreme urgency or not.
With only shadows on the walls
Tellling their presence at times
And muted belches or gaspings
Melting at diverse points
To start all over if there is iron
Here in Africa, we know it well.
No template of half measures
Works here in the savannahs
Come away then to Africa
Where nature binds and bids
Come and have your fill
The happy woman is an African
Copyright © Frank Azuoma | Year Posted 2011
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