Three Poems plus a bonus.

Distanced star.

I remember when I first saw you, I greeted you and you greeted back with respect, it was different from what I'm used to, beautiful girls usually have ego.

Gwababa instantly struck me, so I introduced myself and you, refused to give me your name,
I proceeded to ask you on a date Saturday, you flat out refused, remember you added a little attitude to the rejection.
For sometime it became awkward, I'd often look at you from afar like a distant dream, like trying to catch a shooting star.

I don't remember how we started talking, but I think that's when I started supporting the container where you worked. Even when we started talking, I'd doubt if I had a chance, so humbled, I kept it light plutonic grey, hey remember your colleague, a mother who would casually no actually, actively play match maker.

Like a baker, I'd been slow, yet I couldn't figure out, your flow, so I'd show no signs, like unpaved, unamed back roads it was a rough ride and dusty too, for I was making a move, secretly. We'd converse over a strong black cup of coffee you'd serve me, on those cold mornings of July. Where theres a milk there's a way. (Milky way)
I'd been either ready to be rejected twice, or win the heart of a real life princess, I tell you I'd be your Zulu prince. Interweave into your heart like Zulu love beads, one with your heart beat like a shamanic african drum, dancing to the fortune of chance, hand in hand, tightly fitting like into eachother, lives well suited to eachother like good genes, we complimentary we share, humility, common strength in our characters build, within mine inner being, you'll find gold, and an overflowing treasury abundant winery, so you'll never thirst and with you I'd find heaven on earth.

With every one of my fingers, touch. They would caress you as a sculpture does, to know every curve, crease and line, to see your beauty in feeling, in return you'd swear my hands are made for your delight, my tongue tasting your perfume and like a skilled pianist I'd play the keys of your with the gentle kiss of your toes.

Same goes, for how you'd, return respect,
lucky is him who has you, I write you endless poems, whisper sweetness into your ears, as if your brain is a hive, and the sweetness of honey oozes out of you, thick and slow and should I partake i'd never hunger, shade of dark timber, You are a shooting that survived, caught before you hit the ground, my very own light and eternal warmth, did  you realise that it doesn't take 2+2 to figure that from every angle your curves measure out perfection.
I repeat lucky is he who has you.

Maybe one day I'd anger you fury, and I'd be your azuri. (Healing, aid)
We might disagree, yet we'd agree to reach a compromise,  stick together like the bonding that holds a weave, cause my intentions are rooted in commitment, that should bloom a family tree. To dream is free, the idea of "we" is only a possibility if we were meant to be.
and you wouldn't be hard to find, cause a part of you already permanently resides in the Oceans of my brain, thoughts, in gentle tides, crashing waves and scary storms.
Time often erases, events like death does to the living yet in my memories you reign immortal.

even with nothing monetary to offer, I'd give my entire being like Moses did for Zipporah. A prince that slaved the soil, for his souls mate. I wish you all the best, eternally externally and internally.

-Black Note.