I knew my heart had been  set alight with passion,
that memorable day I cast my very eyes on thee.
Your slightest rebuff to my endless advances
would pose a more formidable challenge to me
than Europe's invincible, combined vast army.
The day you unlocked the sealed entrance to thine heart,
was like opening the world's palatial epicentre.
The access you gave me to thy love's citadel,
was like the lofty achievement of a world conquest.

When I depart the realm
of the terrestrial,
for the splendour of the celestial,
do not bury my remains in the
valley of the kings,
for robbers would move my
bones in search of gold rings.
I detest sharing the glory of
the blue-bloods with them
in death.
But I would like my molded
clay buried in the worm
infested earth,
where it would nourish both
worm and field,
and help moisture give life
to mother earth's withered
yield.

Africa's venerated literary
icon with words of eloquence
esoteric to the blind.
Distinguished in letters
for ages infinite.
Unparalleled in intellect,
and a gadfly of constructive
dissenting views.
Soyinka,
You are indeed a priceless
asset to the black race.
The wise grey-haired doyen
of literary geniuses,
whose ingenuity is in a century
once seen,
and in a Millennium, ten times.

Europe my realm and my prized possession,
I instill in thee our novel ideals,
for your feudal laws our conquest repeals.
Our boisterous wind of emancipation
liberates Spain from draconian inquisition.
Of the proud Brits' stupendous earning power,
an Egyptian campaign would rest the case.
I have made subservient Austria to face
defeat and lasting capitulation.
By sheer divine providence, I soar
above my Italian inheritance,
bequeathed by Papal authority,
and placed in custody of my viceroy.
By my might, I brought to subjugation,
the recalcitrant fiefdom of Russia,
and the resilient kingdom of Prussia.
Not even Portugal dared resistance,
with her weak army debased like a toy.
But in sudden flight, and rare sobriety,
her sovereign lord bowed to abdication.

Corsica, oh my Corsica,
Corsica of a thousand charms,
Corsica of whose fragrance
I can distinguish from France.
I delight in your coat of arms,
with an image the replica
of an emancipated man.
You were my childhood paradise,
in your gardens I played and ran.
Your shores inspired delightful tales
of a land fortified by whales.
Oh Corsica, my Corsica,
I long to inhabit your shores,
to flee Hudson's punitive laws.
There never was a land so dear
as this idyllic island rare.
France did value thee at a price,
and Genoa prospered from thy sale.
Corsica, oh my Corsica,
shall I ever see thee again?
or will my longing be in vain?
Oh, how I love thee Corsica,
heal my protracted home sickness
like a tender loving mistress.

I am the peacock,
the beautiful bride
of the bird kingdom.
I am in no doubt
fairer than the ****,
for I dwarf its pride
with feathers that stand out.
I am the Peacock
who desires serfdom
from the bird kingdom,
for I long to usurp
the title of king
from the strong Eagle
who soars atop
with its air-borne wings.
Though fit as fiddle
with an awesome strength,
gliding the sky's length
at a blistering pace,
yet dreaded for a face
that is void of grace.
I am the Peacock,
the elegantly clad.
Humans would be mad
to contend with me,
for shame you would see
if unclad they be.

Blessed Diana, thrilling phrases of love would make a paragraph,
for your much distinguished and magnificent epitaph.
Your slumber to eternity be likened to a sleeping beauty,
who will be awakened by the kiss of a Seraphic prince of immortality.
For a wedding in the heavenly realms forever shall be
an occasion for the heavens and earth to jointly see.
The hierarchy of heaven to grace the occasion,
inhabitants of the earth beneath to magnify its celebration,
the stars and other luminous bodies give a vivid expression
of the wedding of a goddess of the hunt, as a lasting impression.
Immortal Princess, forever an epitome of honour,
may your gentle and passionate soul dwell in heavenly splendour.