Song of a Maiden

My mother is not at home Push me not to the corner, Take not my golden flower Its for my husband to behold. Let me not tell this tale To those that will laugh Hide me in my own pride For future may rest greatly Let me write not of pains Or of a beast among beauty When tomorrow comes joyfully, Trade gentily with my body. Don't write sorrow and run my temple is not for blemish, To the legs of the earth orbit Beat not my dignity before time. With the eyes of my tears Behold my innocence crying If you have to write with ink Write what men will behold. Touch me not my temple again Mother is not at home to see us Father has gone to the market Only me can not hold this madness. (C) John Chizoba Vincent Vincent Of Vincent 2016