Nemi's TUESDAY: Poetic-prose to; My Eternal Muse!

Staring between the lines of this blank page, all iCan think about is my Eternal muse, I’m mused in  a SERENE – obstreperous environment that speaks tranquility. Tranquility that metamorphosis into ecstasy, then love, love, love that grows slowly but surely like a tumor in my heart, it clouds all forms of doubt not leaving one room void. Love for my Eternal muse. MY MUSE IS NOT huMAN, IT IS NEITHER ANGEL nor Mermaid. It is what iNo not, for a man can’t tell what he knows not, but this I can tell, my Muse is a beauty. If I should write

exactly of her beauty of my muse, poets from now will call me a liar, because her beauty encompasses knowledge and imagination, but if I don’t tell the story of this beauty. ‘’Beauty’’ herself will be oblivious of posterity; I for man will not e held sinner against posterity and nature’s beauty.

My muse has something of a skin that shines like the most fertile of all loamy soil, brown and beautiful. Her lips? Of which I’ve not tasted before, are carved of what of what I know nothing of, yet it shines red or pink like the light on a Cuban cigar. Her voice is loudest when it’s silent, I can hear her call, anytime her pink-two leaved gates opens up to release beautiful speech sound that speaks sweeter gospel than the sounds plucking violin strings. Her eyes, her eyes, makes the stars look like they not shining, they are made of colours you can’t dream of. But this colour I know, even the greatest painter could not understand rainbow and black to form such a beauty. Of course, the greatest painter understands, is it not HE that molded,  painted and lent to my Muse breath as to us all?

Da!! it was he, it was he that created her smile to be like a beautifully decorated crescent road on Christmas eve, that stretches from one earlobe to another, and her dimple is as deep as the void she filled in my heart when she came to me. She is tall and beautiful as what I can only see now, she scents like cinnamon, body of a goddess, heart of a thousand good men, I would spend a thousand days to adore her earlobe and twice as much, one breast, Because time is not what am afraid of and death has  no power near this love. For death shall take me once, after which has no power over me. But love like my eternal muse, is Eternal. hAPPY Tueaday Mami.

                                                       MrChinyere47XXXXVii

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