She smiles like the ocean’s coldest moon
Angelic like paradise’s swimming pool
Heavenly sent my First Lady
Beautiful like yesterday’s today's tomorrow
You're not noisy like a cheap African soap
Am dying to tell you ‘danga ova raffet’
My imagination crossed your carpet
Your beauty is not fake nor flash in a bucket
Your body doesn’t have rashes or crash like a limpet
Am very sick in love with you like my very ill-pet
I wish you accept the things I can’t explain
‘Yatah ma mussa duga ci train’
Every evening ‘mai dem train'
‘Mai naawu melni’ plane
Dying for your fame
First Lady ‘yow ya bareh feum’
‘Donnulo jiggen buii fenn’
‘Sumala gissut suma helbi daai teiy’
‘Sumala gisseh reeh’
Sweet 'melni mew’
Your heart is open and transparent
Decreeing restage
Resting lounge to me a parent
Icy like a diece
Nice like godly mice
Commendable madam First Class
You restructured my broken glass
Your look always change my mood
‘Duchaan’, everything in you is good
Plus the addition of your smiles so pretty cool
Multiplying ‘ak nii ngayi dohhey’
Dividing your beauty’s locket
All nearly make me kick the bucket.
I wrote this poem three years ago
For trusting love will never go
It took me so long to publish this poem
For feelings I felt for you so strong
I held my belt in my heart
Grieving for an affection's meditation
This feeling got me arrested in her station
Rhyming my imagination
You merit the tune of my every heart-beat
Including the sweet-joy I ran with in a defeat
Your adoration strikes in me more than a giga-byte
You keep riding in my dreams like a bike
I mean what you meant
Better call me a Gambian undiscovered Celt
The feelings you fed me got me melt
I don't mean nobody,
Literature just got writing what I felt
I walked up to her ‘n knee when I knelt
A MESSAGE FROM MODOU: All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for personal use, research, lectures, etc, kindly address your messages to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without a written permission to, is an infringement of Copyright. I hope this blog post finds you well and the new year has begun on a great note. I am well too and looking forward to a great 2018 as I engage more with you. I appreciate you for being part of my 2017 readers around the world. I write to tell you that you can now translate all my blog posts into any language in the world . Simply type the language of your choice in the textbox below the inscription " Pageviews", it can be found on your right-hand of this page. You're all important to me, for everyone as I look at the wholesome approach to the discussion on overall African protest literature and the link to religious poetry from a person-centered view.
Angelic like paradise’s swimming pool
Heavenly sent my First Lady
Beautiful like yesterday’s today's tomorrow
You're not noisy like a cheap African soap
Am dying to tell you ‘danga ova raffet’
My imagination crossed your carpet
Your beauty is not fake nor flash in a bucket
Your body doesn’t have rashes or crash like a limpet
Am very sick in love with you like my very ill-pet
I wish you accept the things I can’t explain
‘Yatah ma mussa duga ci train’
Every evening ‘mai dem train'
‘Mai naawu melni’ plane
Dying for your fame
First Lady ‘yow ya bareh feum’
‘Donnulo jiggen buii fenn’
‘Sumala gissut suma helbi daai teiy’
‘Sumala gisseh reeh’
Sweet 'melni mew’
Your heart is open and transparent
Decreeing restage
Resting lounge to me a parent
Icy like a diece
Nice like godly mice
Commendable madam First Class
You restructured my broken glass
Your look always change my mood
‘Duchaan’, everything in you is good
Plus the addition of your smiles so pretty cool
Multiplying ‘ak nii ngayi dohhey’
Dividing your beauty’s locket
All nearly make me kick the bucket.
I wrote this poem three years ago
For trusting love will never go
It took me so long to publish this poem
For feelings I felt for you so strong
I held my belt in my heart
Grieving for an affection's meditation
This feeling got me arrested in her station
Rhyming my imagination
You merit the tune of my every heart-beat
Including the sweet-joy I ran with in a defeat
Your adoration strikes in me more than a giga-byte
You keep riding in my dreams like a bike
I mean what you meant
Better call me a Gambian undiscovered Celt
The feelings you fed me got me melt
I don't mean nobody,
Literature just got writing what I felt
I walked up to her ‘n knee when I knelt
NOTE: This poem was written since three years ago ( it is an except from my poetry book, Spit of Misery) it will soon be available in stores for purchase. Thank you for your generous support!
A MESSAGE FROM MODOU: All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for personal use, research, lectures, etc, kindly address your messages to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without a written permission to, is an infringement of Copyright. I hope this blog post finds you well and the new year has begun on a great note. I am well too and looking forward to a great 2018 as I engage more with you. I appreciate you for being part of my 2017 readers around the world. I write to tell you that you can now translate all my blog posts into any language in the world . Simply type the language of your choice in the textbox below the inscription " Pageviews", it can be found on your right-hand of this page. You're all important to me, for everyone as I look at the wholesome approach to the discussion on overall African protest literature and the link to religious poetry from a person-centered view.
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