Love nwa tintin

 Her translucent eyes to my ears whisper,

tales of nimble affection
Weaving aesthetic paradise of happiness in my heart
Like the triangular draft of a spider

I see your eyes
The twinkles are brighter than the thin sparkles of the shooting stars
I wonder why my soul never ceased into them to pry

You are one of a kind
in your heart the thread of tenderness I find

With adventure your world I will roam
Till your pulse flip and pause in Rome.

Your kiss I linger for lease,
  A thousand years at least

In your eyes are hidden the constellation of stars
An end to all worrisome and dark emotional scars

My pain you heal
My soul your radiance daily steals.

Be the tender Baobab tree on which I lean
Take me to the ecstatic sphere where passions gleams.

I will love you till the ends of days,
In your embrace, I will have
my coolest stay.

I love you.               @philo baba

Poet tree

poet tree

By Oloyede Michael Taiwo

I sat on the wit of a poet tree

I read lines in pages of poetic letters in threes

On several burning notes

we agree

Poetry like a pear tree

We pick rhymes for free

Our clothed nakedness we lucidly see

The nakedness of nothingness

The nothingness of existence

Our persistence in existence

The essence of existence

The sense in existence.

I chew one tenth of sane tenses that interpret the essence of lean sentences

I bit the fruit on the poet-tree

In chapters and verses

I marked oxymoron on my speech tree

Antithesis I chew for a gift

My pulse less understood by morons

The voice of sarcasm became clarion

The axe of pain is oxy

The hook of forgiveness is moron

I sat on the trunk of pun

It lulls my bumbum with fun

I swung next to paradox

Like a good father does

Bestowing kindness that opens doors

On the poet-tree;

I and wisdom had tea

Knowledge obliged me

Understanding took me to fish

I designed this three on peachtree

I met this three

On a fair tree

On a poet’s tree

My life from the regrets of yesterday became free

On the poet-tree

Swirls the personification of poetry

@PHILO BABA

December

Trimester  of a forlorn maid,

Unkempt symphony of a tattered Nirvana maid,

Love within the lattice of your tiny lips  got 

lovingly made,

December,

Beneath the slothful watch of your wet ship, sharply caressing tender turbulence,

and assuaging mushy whispers of the solemn sea,

I got intensely laid.

@Philo Baba