Under The African Sky

Under The African Sky.

There hangs an air thick
With smoking burning wood
There is a sound of a breaking stick...
As your mama prepares food.

My heart thunders for your lips
And the cool fountain so sweet.
Music is slowly swaying hips.

Come my love, abandon your nimble
Self into my restless arms...
Let me chisel on you a symbol
Create song in joints of your arms…

Come away, let’s drink the air.
And gaze at the sky‘s dark hue
A sky unblemished...so fair
Like our pristine love so true…
Under the African sun.