The Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom

I see it sitting pretty Sandwiched between the longings of lonely hearts How high could beauty get Bestowing the pleasure of its grace on expectant races I touch it ever so dainty Warming up to the allure of its beautiful parts How often did they fret Flowing from the dark recesses of tired paces They hold it so lofty Grateful for the wondrous pleasure of its gaiety How beautiful could love get Illuminating unknown lives from the diverse outlets of her many faces. ___________________________________________________________________________________