Freshness: A paradox

Come see the one
clothe
in jewels of a harlot
from the shores of a lion-heart
with flashy hips, bouncy confidence,
petite smile; and the safety of a
bosom laid in a mirage of outer
beauty that's decked in the peace of
mercifulness,
makes the eyes leap from its habitat.

Eat the fat of thine eyes
for that damsel
who in wisdom
hides the wounds and fallen
spirit of her man, lives here.
The destruction of wives - she lifts,
the shackles of hardship
that buries free intuition - she releases,
and all that's left she
purifies with counsel.

Whoso loves peace
walks in her midst
and overthrow that
strangled hold of a furious woman:
?'Cause she authorize a lion control
that keeps the man, always, and
hides all his woes in her bosom,
and kisses infidelity with a mother's embrace.


The truth of that life:
It's void of bickering,
blame food and pompousness,
for the housekeeper covers
hiccups in gentleness like
a walk in newfound freedom.
Come see the damsel
clothe in white,
released for the lonesome journey.
She who makes
tear easy for men folk, will trod alone.
No man had enjoyed the natures
food
but many wiser
had hurled tunes, and
she unveil a new born spirit-
for they
had to challenge there
known serpents.



By Paul Andrew Bourne, MSc. (candidate); BSc. (Hons); Dip. Edu.