By N. Amma Twum-Baah and Wakdok, Samuel Stephen
Woman: My lover, my friend, my soul has known no greater pleasure since the day I saw You! I always said to myself: “there is no such thing as the perfect man for me! I am desired by so many others; there cannot be just one out there perfect enough for me.” Or so I thought, until I opened up my eyes and I saw You.
Man: My lady, I saw You long before You ever saw me because You glow above all the desert of the Sahara and I know how majestic You are. You are first among equals and second to none. You stand higher than the Kilimanjaro and your beauty beats the sight of Victoria Falls.
Woman: How foolish I have been! I had a list of requirements as long as the road from Namibia to Angola, and I judged your worth based on those requirements. I never thought one would come along who not only met those requirements, but surpassed my expectations. I never knew I could find a love like yours my love. Some came close but fell short in too many important ways. They looked good but lacked substance. They spoke well, but their words were tainted. They had academic degrees, but their minds were shallow. They talked a good game, but their hearts were full of deceit.
Man: You were only being naïve my love. Your loveliness surpasses the length of the Nile and I can boldly say that your breath is stronger than the Zulu army. You are my jewel in the savannah, the gateway to my ecstasy. My African treasure, the jungles of Africa bow at your sight. You are richer than all the Gold in South Africa juxtaposed on the oil field in the Gulf of Guinea. Darling, your serenity is more natural than the Mambila Plateau and your kindness runs deeper than the Atlantic Ocean. You give the Garden city its spring of serendipity.
Woman: My lord, my man, my heart, I didn’t care whether You would turn out to be Ghanaian or Nigerian, Senegalese of Kenyan, but I hoped You would. All I cared about was that You were African! And that your veins run with the blood of our ancestors, that You spoke the language of love the way our forefathers spoke the language of love – in our own unique way! I cared that You didn’t gag when I served You one of the many delectable delicacies mum painstakingly taught me. I cared that You treated me like the delicate African flower that I am – beautiful when in bloom, pampered, loved and protected.
Man: My Princess You are the fountain of beauty which flows into the mountain of peace. On your precious head sits the crown of diamonds which dwarfs all the diamonds in Sierra-Leone. You are my African Pride, and when You gave me the gate pass to your heart I knew I would live for ever because even when I die, my love living in You will live for all eternity. You give life to my being and illuminate my soul. “Babylove”; You are the woman of my desire, the queen of my heart, the destiny of my eternity.
Woman: My prince, divine nature thought it best to send me You. You are the one who lights up my soul and makes my heart sing songs of infinite melodies. You satiate the intense burning of desire deep inside me. I never want this feeling to end. No wonder all those years back when I was a little girl, even as I read fairy tales of white princes and knights-in-shining armor riding to rescue me on a white horse; I always envisioned You, my black love, my black prince, my black warrior, chest broad and bare, spear in hand, a triumphant look across your handsome face, riding in on a black horse, its coat gleaming through the sun’s rays. You rescued my heart from doom and You kept me safe in your arms. With those strong arms, I knew I would be safe forever. Protect me from this evil world that tells me my beauty is nothing compared to others.
Man: Come baby let me protect You. Make my heart your heart, hold me tight, kiss me sweet, touch me smoothly and I will love and protect You endlessly. You make me a proud man, You are the sun that lights my day and the moon that lights my night. I know I was right when I set my eyes on You and I told my heart to follow You.
Woman: Many have found love in the arms of others. I have found love right where I feel at home; where I can be me without having to explain myself, and everything I do.
Man: That’s because the love of an African man made manifest in an African woman makes the world spin and halt on the African continent. You who once were my fantasy are now my purpose of existence. I can see You with the eyes of my heart and hear You with the ears of my heart. And since that lovely day when You looked into my eyes and told me ‘Yes,’ I knew that the heart of your heart had merged with the heart of mine. Forever we will live and love and live and love.
Woman: How foolish I’ve been my love. I knew You long before I saw You and that’s what makes our love so unique and so strong! I knew You before I saw You and that’s why I know that no matter where I go and no matter what I do, love will always be there beckoning me home. I knew You, long before I saw You in all your patience, and in all your caring. There were times I was afraid you’d walk away from being tired of waiting for me to see You. There were times I wanted to see You, but my sight was focused on another. There were times I saw You, but I was afraid of what my eyes were seeing so I looked and saw another. I was running away from the safety of love. Now, I wonder why I was so foolish.
Man: My Precious golden girl, my sweet cherry; let me show You to the world. Your foolishness has been forgiven. Let’s focus on what matters here and now. Your full bosom seduces even the angels and your eyes can pierce the Zuma rock. When I hold You close to me and feel the softness of your being, when I close my eyes and kiss You, I do not only feel, but I know I am in heaven. Tell me, who else can make me feel this way but You. Each time You smile, I loose my head for a while and the world feels Africa is not the place where the deities of love dwell?
Woman: My African warrior, my charming prince, there is a song in my heart that sings in perfect melody at the sight of You. There is a sound in my throat that escapes only at the touch of your hands. No one has ever made me feel half as good about myself like You do. I feel your love beckoning to me and I humbly obey!
Man: If I love You, it is because love is You. If I need You, it is because life is You. No man with blood flowing through his veins will see You and not appreciate the true African warrior I am to have won You. I have your heart and body and I know You submitted your soul long ago to me. Can I ever stop loving You; will that not stop my heart from beating? What use will I have on earth when I stop my own heart from beating? I will be useless can’t You see, if I do not have You to stick by my side. Love has no boundaries and that is why whether You are a Ghanaian and I am a Nigerian it makes little or no sense to me. The only thing that makes sense to me is the fact that You love me and I know You will never regret loving me. If I steal and steal billons of nairas or Cedis then I am rogue, but if stealing Your heart is what I am guilty of then let me be guilty a zillion times.
Woman: I submit to your love – oh how I used to hate that word “submit!” But, with You, it feels so right! Take care of me, and I’ll take care of You! Be my provider, and I’ll be your help. Lead me, and I’ll follow! Direct me, and I’ll listen! For some reason, all of a sudden, “Let me cater to You” does not sound like such a degrading song after all. For some reason, seeing mum lay out dad’s dinner covered with white lace doesn’t seem so maid-like after all. For some reason, the thought of catering to You makes me weak in the knees and gives me such immense pleasure. It makes me want to cook your dinner and rub your tired feet. It makes me want to rub your back and plant sweet kisses on your neck. It makes me want to savor every minute spent in Your arms showered in your sweet kisses. It makes me want to be weak. It makes me want to be the vulnerable. It makes me want to serve You. It makes me want to submit to You, and obey the sound of your voice.
Man: My “Afrikan Goddess”, I have no poem to write for You because your life is my poetry. I have no joy to share with You because my heart is your happiness and I can not give up my life for You because my life is your heart. Every day is our season of love and when I am with You hell is burnt out of existence; I understand God’s desire for the Garden of Eden as a place of love and happiness. Love is God’s gift to You and I and it is our symbol of angelic inheritance, no physicist can measure the velocity of our love. When ever I think of You I thank the Lord for permitting one of his angels to descend and be my sanity in this insane world. This love story is not written on paper which can be burnt or stored on a disk that can be deleted. It is carved out on my heart and stored in it always to be retrieved and I know from my heart to yours it flows without end. You are the core of my existence and the most delicate part of my being is You.
Woman: My friend, my lover, my prince, as for me, I want to shout our love from the rooftops and tell You time and time again that I cannot live without your love. I want the whole world to hear of our love and to know that You are the reason why I live. I want the world to know that You rule my body and You rule my heart. I submit to You all that is within me and all that I am. You are the core of my existence and the most delicate part of my being is You.
Man: Now that You are weak and vulnerable, and have submitted to me, let me fill You with my charms, let me stride You to ecstasy and take You beyond the clouds. My “Afrikan Goddess,” Your royalty has no past neither does it have a limit. My baby, my friend, my wife, my woman, my lady, my princess and my all; to live without your love is to live in vain; it is not to live in the first place. I love You!
About the Authors
N. Amma Twum-Baah a Ghanaian based in the United States is the Founder/ Publisher and Editor-in-Chief of Afrikan Goddess.
Wakdok, Samuel Stephen a Nigerian is the brain that powers Credo World Media: http://CredoWorld.blogspot.com
No comments:
Post a Comment