As Man Dwelt, So Doth Her Thought Poem by Folayemi Akande

I have thought of you as thinketh man of death.


What can i not give to make night sun 'gain,



On this thought of mine, to harbour your mirth.


What praise hast mine life, that for you can't be slain?



Your heart is the cord that tunes our love duet



Wind over hill plays the harmonic verse



Your lips are unbroken yet mignonette.



Wherefrom are you, o desirous lass



I do not wish to mourn amidst my days



Or ever grieve in thought this day thereon



I share no more in your substance of praise


Out of my youth's gay shall no forl'rn be born.



You are a deadly force poisoned in beau



As the wind's vein rise on the pearliest dew.