Milova Matthias Poems

My eyne and my heart are at mortal war!
For thy beauty art all the better part of me.
But since thy love I love and thy tasty worth
I do forgive thee, oh sweet gentle thief!
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I salute thee African's beauty.
Nigeria's diva who hailed from Mbaise.
Orekelewa of the giant of Africa.
Whose beauty an elegant gait.
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I want to pick a word and think it through.
To plant an idea and watch it grow.
I want to smile and cry whenever I wanted to.
How will this be possible? Can someone tell me so?
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The dawn each day without thy prayers, does not arise.
O, how lovely the roses envy thy beauteous youth
But little are they compared to thy worth in thy daughter's eyes
For sweet looks sweet but sweeter is you!
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Save me not a cake, if ever you make one on my soon coming birthdays
I shall have died before those days can smell their sun
If this I say in this way does happened, bury me so I won't decay.
Resenting me not, for I died with no regret or grudge to none.
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Fear not I shall but even when I die,
Let not a stone nor marquee tell where I lie
Nor glands make their drop of tears
Let my death enjoy the peace its earned.
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My queen is proper African!
Made of cocoa oil and Shea butter
She is the pride of such compelling western saga
Striding with the unbeatable fashion of African swagger
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You are the lily of the day
The sunshine that always slay
You are the moon that seduces the sun
Keeping the clouds after you on the run
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Remember me not, even if this verse distills mine name
Lest thee by men because of me be embarrassed
Or lest i with my little birth, stain thy noble fame
Only bury me in thy heart, once I'm in clay compassed.
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With manners, I sing thy birth of many colours
Wishing you oh sweet and cute, gentle little thief
All good that's good and all the world's favours
Loving you so much for thy beaut steals all grief.
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