a poem by UKAONU DORIS OBIANUJU, Nigeria

He read through the dust of his google,
My letter which must feed,
With his face crossed,
Flipping the sheet with his stern arms,
Folding his legs to be at ease,
He saw my word, to be diligent,
For I had raised the stake for business over pleasure unlike the lots,
Thus He called forth with his pen prints on a paper.

Darkest before dawn all was set,
My arrival caught her staring,
Sending dew chills down her chest.
A beauty she is...truth be told
My body wouldn't miss this,
It moved faster than my mind,
It devoured with haste my word given
But found solace in pen threads on paper
Reddish in writing,it spoke
She read in red,so ready to thread.

Pleasure has thus put us in chains,
She wrote that we leave our word,
To be with our world she yearns,
How would we survive our world without our word..I wrote back
She rode this time in being to my desk,
Her look was mute,
With a tender force she grabbed my lips,
Moaning still for our world.
Before jack could come calling,
The doors fierce voice,had already called,
It was he who I gave my word,
No bed for denial,
A contradiction he embraced,
Pleasure welcomed in place of business.
He smiled at me in fury,
He stretched forth,Giving me a big blow,
THE LETTER, everyone dreads,
No need for a reading,
In flesh,it really is.
He walked away fingers frozen with my beauty's,
She stared back,her eyes did clap,
It was indeed a trap.

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