Done and Dusted:->(an audacious account of a bridegroom)

Monday, November 8, 2010

The long awaited moon

Has thus taken its seet

In the starry sky

Right above our room


My lovely young bride

Along with her pride

Takes her time

To show me all she's got.


The stage is set

The eyes are met

But alas! I fret

the night ain't perfect.


I can't align

My mind's design

Within her figure

That lacks more vigor


In fact our hearts

Were the perfect match

Yet my eyes craved

For more in her.


To hold tight

I yearned for sleek hips

To tenderly touch

I wanted coiled hair

Oh poor dear

Shan't shed a tear

But with her failed gear

I'll only be her fear.


How can I juxtapose

Her plain-Jane figure

with the physiques that made me froze

filled with lust and vigor


It wasn't her,

my eyes wanted most

But it was her ,

Who was drawn to me so close.


I was told that she ditched

A mad goggle-eyed fool

With whom she saw no future

Which she neither shall have with me.


It's not my fault

She made her own snare

To trap us both

in an undue share.



Everything in my power

I did to turn her down

And yet none could cover

Her love that bore my crown.


By the grace of all we married

Never to keep it long

the morrow that sun shall carry

will tell her I've long gone.