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Glowing Rose

By Sunday Elom

Like a morning sun she shines,

Like a morning rose under the showering dew she glows,

So does her beauty generates palsy in my arteries and veins,

Black-beauty she shines and twinkles like bright stars in the sky,

Ice and harmattan cold her voice generates in my bloodstream,

Oh yes a biblical Sarah reincarnation she is,

For within and without evidence of Creator’s Spirit flows with matrimonial virtue of no equality,

So my heart consistently yearn for the glowing rose,

Possessed by the Creator’s glory,

For this my manly ego goes down the  drowning ocean,

Only to be resonated by her acceptance extended hands,

For without which my drowning nucleus may never behold another terrestrial sunrise,

So my heart travails, Seeking her sincere tender embracing and forever accommodation into her Divine established institution’s alter,

Disaster shall my psychology found,

At her permanent refrain of my sincere humble request,

For other veiled roses have my humble heart brutally crashed,

For five thousand years can I wait,

Till this glowing rose embraces my offering cup,

And till the Creator’s call can I wait,

At her refrain of my offering cup.