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.
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