Your words are often rot
Your voice do carry sword
Your mind nothing works
Your fingers cares the rod
Break doors without a knock
So I moved up north
Heard you’re now rusty nut
Unbend your love is lost
Unkept your house is dust
Afraid of usual mocking
You hide around in hammock
Why called me a harlot?
I was just your parrot
What you said
Was what you heard.
© owolusi. L. O
It was a book writing by me
It was titled your pain
You never opened
The chapters and
Read between the lines
never forgave me
Ten years past
You picked it
Old and dusty
Till you discovered
In chapter 1 my reasons
In chapter 2 my apologies.
In the last chapter I love you
Now You called me
Asking in clouded voice
Can we write another bbook
and title it forgiveness?
Love
Your warmth linger in my palms
I held them to my heart longing
Your body like a bow shot my
Heart with love yea I bleed joy
Our love is immortal
Your curves still befriend my touch
Soft kisses drops like rosy flush
Gentle fingers grips a steady blush
White and golden hair flowed asunder
zip moves, silently revealing
each vibration Sending shivers
Down deep seeking arousal
Your arms are cage of love
My paths are clear to touch
Widespread my deep torched
Come fill my round void
Seek me beyond the gates
Of fleshy borders
Closer, your breath is flame
My river will overflow untamed
in your tight embrace no shame
Dig deep my fountain awaits.
©Owolusi. L. O
TILL I MET A BOOK
Till I met a book
I was a lost
Till I met a book
I was alone
Till I met a book
I was a stranger
Then I met a book
Where heroes are made
Where men do wonders
Then I become a book
Of wonder
Now I must write a book
For a soul that wander
Seeking another
To call a brother.
©Owolusi L.O
Thanks for joining me!
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton
Passion for words 