Traditionals

None I have seen soul deny the sweetness
The sweetness planted in this fairy facility
The ukuse; the yorubas call you sèkèrè

The beautifully beautified calabash with beads
The Igbo women make soprano and treble and bass
Off you; the dried fruit of African tree.

Ebony skin, slim neck of a modeling being.
Your basket buttocks wear your beads well
Your melody anywhere conjugates hearts dancing

Ukuse, can I denote your mystic rhythms?
No wonder every passing constellation
I'm drunk in love with originality in you

The Agbor dancers fell for your spells too
And so am I whenever your tones crawl into my nostrils
Please, where are those Edo-Delta women's wing

To beat me ukuse
To burn my calories
In dancing?

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry
(the Leo with wings flying)

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