I think I like him On the stairway, I walked with my luggage in hand and lectures on my mind Never dreaming that today will be the day I will meet him- that special him ’Can I please help you my beautiful lady in blue’’, his baritone voice echoed Wow! What a resemblance! I could see my curvy reflection in his Deeply-set tenderly-grey eyes as he raised his eyelids to say hi. Deep dimpled with no pimple yet very simple; he seemed to come right out of a painting in God’s art studio. Talk about being dumbstruck, awestruck or “anything-struck”. Out of all the words making up the ink in my pen, none can adequately clothe the beauty (yes, “beauty”) of the man who stood in front of me to a perfect fit. That night, sleep divorced my eyes Memories of him kept proposing to my thoughts I think I like him But I don’t know whether I am the only one feeling this way I am who I am, a true African lady So untraditional, uncultured, unexpected of me to make my love known to my love He may take me for a cheap girl And make me the topic for discussion wherever two or more guys are gathered in my name But I wish I will play not games with my emotions And be bold enough to stand up for this impassioned, restless and entrapped soul of my conscience Will I be just another girl for him, or in my arms he will lay every day of his life feeling gay As he drinks pure love poured from the deepest depths of my love-stricken heart’s bay? Oh! How my innocent soul cries for this familiar yet strange feeling called love How was his sleep yesternight? Did he dream about us dancing on the moon? With the heavenly beings, our most cherished audience? What is he thinking about now? Has he had his breakfast? How is life treating my prince? Can he also feel this searing pain called love? Has he the slightest knowledge of this little girl next door who is so much into him? If he had, why is he still mute? Is his love for me so strong that it has rendered him dumb? I ask with pains in my chest cos the next second may meet not my presence if he still refuses to propose to my life I have never tread this path of love before Friends who had, found their hearts cut into smithereens at the end of the road And now fear yells out to my soul I pray thee Lord May he be the found owner of this missing rib I carry I want not my heart to be broken but I think I like him So in love with my shadow
Posted on: Mon, 31 Mar 2014 11:13:41 +0000
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