O Seductress Of Mine
My quill is barren as my mind could be
Thou art fair in substance, fair exalt of thy age
I fall to my ode in belaud of thee
Shalt my furlough from such tribute snare no rage?
Thou art wondrous as speckles of the star
Fairly as mistress of the nighty gale
Scorn me as thou wilt, I'm viscid as tar
How vein, thy voice speaks of thee as though frail.
The quirkiness of thy beauteous effect
Makes the world a poor imitation of thyself
Lais of Corinth to thee is a subject
Thou graze more lust than Bathsheba herself.
Thy kind is a counterfeit from the dream
For thou were carved from the sun's dimmest beam.
Folayemi Akande's Other Poems
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