Love shouldn’t be confined
I stole a glance to the left this morning and beheld a damsel.
An arresting beauty, yearning to serenade me with all the melodies she had composed overnight.
But here I am, unable to be at that concert, because the wisest wisdom now is love and stare through the windows of my imagination.
I have never heard ornaments sing but the ones in her hair rub shoulders with George Frideric Handel.
There she is, tiptoeing in her light brown tutu and green coloured afro as the wind sets the tempo of the music.
The ostentatious contours of her cheeks, coupled with the intermittent flashes of her eyelids, capture the images of me in awe of her radiating splendour.
She stands out amongst her girlfriends, and every glimpse through her eyes is a road-trip to peace.
Everything around her feels fresh, especially the air she breathes.
Many may call you by the name they want you to be
Cedar, Oak, Acacia amongst others
But you beloved, are my life, my air
The perfect puzzle to my being
You can watch a video and audio interpretation of this poem by Jenefails Nimako-Mensah here.
