Behold the Christ child is born this day,
just as the prophets of old did say.
In a manger on the cozy hay
did his infant Lordship choose to stay.
No cradle by a thousand kings paid
for, would befit his divine highness
whose crown is celestial and priceless,
glowing with gems of regal brightness.
Yet in a manger so low he laid.
Behold the Christ child, God's timeless gift,
who will from sin's merciless *******, lift
men to heights from where they went adrift
from God's intended realm in Eden.
His birth in yuletide our lives sweeten
with lit golden marbles to lighten
dark alleys which were once stress ridden.

What a lovely morn concealed in radiance!
With melodious rhymes sung in ecstasy.
What a pleasant evening spent in ambience!
With candles glowing in joy's embassy.
What a season known for so much laughter!
With all its fraternizing and delights.
What a day to chant hymns with a Psalter!
In cathedrals embellished with bright lights.
What a day for lovers to reminisce!
As they reflect on each Piano piece.
What a day for kids to delight in toys!
With smiles beaming on faces of girls and boys.
What a time to mark a pleasant holiday!
Its nothing more than a happy Christmas day!

A lovely December morning like this,
connotes nothing else in our world but bliss.
A time to mine our richest depths of love
on fifth avenue's apartments above.
Every split second is worth a lifetime
with your warm presence in this wintertime.
A kiss from you is like an explosive.
Your lips hypnotize with a corrosive
touch of arousal and sensuality,
bringing heaven on earth to reality.
I will relish the softness of your skin,
like I have never before relished in
our union together as a couple.
We will dine, dance, kiss, romance and cuddle,
because I sure hope to make this December
a unique December to remember.

Good Morning Grandma.
It really was a hitch free journey
between a tumultuous earth,
and a refreshing dawn
in a glamorous
celestial city.
Conveyed in honour,
on eternity's ship,
in the midst of a flotilla,
each by angels maneuvered.
I do sincerely congratulate you
for your new found bliss.
And as you merry in your
world of paradisation,
be sure to plead our cause
before His Majesty divine.

Our school sails on serene rivers of excellence.
A model of hard work and unfeigned resilience.
Here we train leaders of our century's future,
irrespective of tribe, religion and culture.

Here we soar ceaselessly beyond our sky's limit
by imbibing skills required for our dream's zenith.
In utmost straining and striving we hardly yield.
Yet our persistent spirits know not dismay.
Because our fruitful toiling will brilliance convey,
on this placid and fertile academic field.

In our lofty mission we are second to none,
as we realize our vision of being number one.
Adorable the unparalleled in service,
will make a genius once considered a novice.

Africa my Africa; of resources rich.
Aggressively wooed because her potentials enrich.
Africa the bride, historically bid for.
The continent dark with opulent fields to explore.
Your labour past prospered farmers of the Occident.
Your hidden value takes the gaze of the Orient.
Not even the world's giants can your 'dwarfness' ignore,
as they compete for potentials concealed therein.
You seek for succour but your abundance lies herein.
Your pleasant shores will no more the brain drain witness.
Your lush green will spring forth from your feigned wilderness.
Africa my home will her charming beauty unveil.
No more will your poverty stricken let out a wail.

The beautiful bride for the world prepared,
by Europe's colonial powers divided.
Her priceless worth was seen and hardly spared;
hence the need to woo her was decided.
Two great superpowers made their advances,
as she danced before their lustful glances.
Now she's wooed by none other than the Chinese;
who dangle their bread crumbs and putrid cheese;
seeking relentlessly her heart to please.
Africa is no doubt a priceless jewel,
historically contested for by a duel.

Joyous angels an entire night spent,
singing with flutes they ceased to relent.
Shepherds lowly pitch their dusty tent.
A story indeed reminiscent
of ageless advents when we all went
to sing in churches in wintry Kent.
In fright we gazed at Santa's beard length,
in a speed sleigh drawn by the Elks' strength.
We sought more fun for an extra cent.
But after pleasure we did repent,
speaking solemn words of a good gent:
'Oh, what a pleasant time in advent,
to usher in the infant God sent.'

Sweet Akunna of the forbidden caste,
with ******* ***** and succulent to taste.
She has marble eyes that blossom by day,
and ivory teeth worth a millennium's pay.
Her rear curves dangle to her feets' rhythm,
for the gaze of rivals deep in schism.
Her moist lips have their natural redness,
as bright in colour as a crimson dress.
Her body's landscape is soft with fragrance
of love and sweetness in sheer abundance.
She has long, smooth and fine pillars for legs,
for which every man dreams daily and begs.
In rejection she rules the rain forest
as the queen of misfits, but still the best.
An outcast with beauty that subjugates
all free born women yearning at the gates
of the gods for such unique endowments
which are natural without ornaments.

I love only my kind.
But a world of just
your kind would to
monotony consign you.

I celebrate just my kind.
But a world that celebrates
only you, would to the utter
depths of boredom relegate you.

I prefer just my kind.
But the preference of your kind
would your curiosity wear out.

I only recognize my world.
But a world of only you
can never its horizon broaden.

I only relish my own race.
But a world devoid of
other races would be the
most uninteresting.

My race must the entire earth occupy.
But without the 'inferior' races,
how could you 'superiority' claim?

I have a lebensraum for my
race to occupy.
A lebensraum for only you
would geography obliterate.

So let your world be yours,
and let mine be mine.

Your culture and language you
may retain, whilst mine I also
retain,

as we both our diversity
celebrate.
Because diversity is nothing
more than the spice of life.

On a summer day I saw a pretty dame
bathing in the warm waves of the beach's tub.
She tanned her skin to adorn her slim frame,
massaging its softness with each gentle rub.
From that distance, she exuded sweet fragrance
stemming from the refining of her radiance.
Sensual movements from lips, hips, curves, legs and hands
made me fantasize as I relished each moment.
My love-struck eyes gazed at the rhythmic movement
of this ******* clad model for all lands.
After a sunbath, she tied her pristine towel,
then with a fixed look, she gazed straight at me.
'Hello, the adventurous gentleman,' said she.
'You sure look gay, hale, hearty and swell.'
Shyly my fears of rejection loomed large,
whilst my love dreams turned out to be a mirage.

My emotions are explosive.
My pretenses are relegated
to the depths.
I cannot my feelings
anymore conceal.
Let me come in and
share your heavenlies
and tumults with you.
Tomorrow never comes.
Let me this day your
swift response hear.
Or else in suspense
I'll live and die
countless before the
much awaited moment.

I heard an old old Christmas song
sung by grandma on Christmas eve.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of a ****** who did conceive.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of a Christ child who will relieve.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of glad tidings we shall receive.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of peace on earth we shall achieve.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of joyful people who did grieve.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of pain eternal we shall leave.

Take me to the land of crystal rivers,
that glitter like a mirror for the gods.
Take me to the height for altruistic lords,
revered by the oppressed for being givers.
I dream of a world drowned in abundance
of joy infinite at its renaissance.
Where the warm rays of the tropical sun
soothe the pains of a bleeding wound by day.
Where nature entertains with so much fun,
like a funfair in the sweet month of may.
I smell the pleasant scent of flowers gay
pervading the plains of awe and wonder.
Where colourful fruits in season render
sweetness and nourishment at my behest.
Where the sun's showers of warmth dry each tear,
bringing to extinction, a world of fear
in this magnificent haven of rest.
I see a paradise for virgins fair,
devoid of blemish with their silky hair.
I see breath taking mountains clad in green,
where romantic love birds would find serene.
I see this world of beauty at its peak,
which all dreamers would relentlessly seek,
coming closer now to my possession
than any dream or imagination.

As we begin a journey so uncertain,
you and I made one in a world of ours.
Our thoughts and emotions to share,
our pleasant moments together to cherish,
and our pains and sorrows to endure.
I pledge my unflinching loyalty to you
this day, and for the rest of my life, by
taking an oath of fidelity to make our
uncertain journey certain.
I vow before you and God almighty
to be there for you in times of need,
in times of want, in times of joy,
in times of bliss, and in times of despair.
I vow to nourish and to nurture your
mortal body and soul.
To share my infinite possessions with you,
and to bequeath them at death to you.
I solemnly promise to cast my hopeful
sunbeam on you,
to cause your emotional eye fluid to dry
in your moments of grief.
Every thought of thee gives me health,
and a minute with thee is truly a life time
to remember.
Nothing else shall separate us both save death.
May heaven grant its consent to our eternal union.

The world is a spicy *** of diverse races
that exhibits colours pleasant on different faces.
Each race revealing features distinct and unique
of varying hair texture but uniform physique.
Oh yes, you know undoubtedly that I am black.
But still my black heritage does not prestige lack
because my black beauty is revealed in the dark.
Oh yes, you all know that I am Caucasian white,
with my magnificent ocean blue eyes for sight.
I am blonde, brunette and red haired with fair skin light.
Oh yes, you know that I am oriental yellow,
having traits distinct that nature itself did bestow.
We look alike but vary from fellow to fellow.
Oh yes, you know I'm middle-eastern or Indian brown.
I adore my skin tanned and hair black as a crown.
I have a pleasant heritage of Asian renown.

Though I style my curly braids with ribbons bright,
and colour my sweet moist lips with royal red
to look as bright and fair as a newly wed.
Though I stand on two towers to get a better height,
with eyelashes that beckon at each gazer.
Though my trendy gowns make me a trailblazer
with great designer labels that distinguish.
Though I have curves which men wished they could relish,
revealed slightly through my ******* clad frame.
Though I have this charm which could hardened hearts tame,
making vicious criminals to dream and lust,
still I am nothing more than organic dust.

The Paragliders like ravenous vultures flew
to southern Israel to predate on soft targets.
Like swarms of bees, they snuck, *****, maimed, shot, burnt and slew.
Terror did every man's fragile conscience becloud.
Hate made their embittered hearts to mercy forget.
Abductions followed, having to terror avowed.

Then came the IDF's genocidal intent,
having intended global laws to circumvent;
Children, women, all consumed by mighty vengeance.
A disproportionate response beyond balance.
Homes, hospitals, Mosques, Churches and schools are levelled,
as Gaza is by torrents of bombs bedeviled.
I do not with a livid Israel sympathize,
nor do I with a besieged Gaza empathize.
With humanity I have my affinity,
for my deep love for it, tends to infinity.

He that trod upon subservient Europe
with the imperial guards' fighting prowess,
did himself and his heartthrob the empress,
entrench thrones jointly owned by their hookup.
He that caused guns to rage on Europe's plains
and cannons to thunder on Egypt's sands,
sent hussars and mamluks to distant flight.
He usurped crowns for his dear siblings' gains,
and enthroned loyalists to head vanquished lands.
But was banished for good from France's sight
after a stunning loss on Belgium's plains.

Chika the angel in the distant clouds.
Treads slowly along the utopic path.
With eternity's splendour in your grip,
you were awoken by melodious sounds,
played by celestials who guided your trip.
You fled divinity's eternal wrath,
to dwell in realms of laughter infinite.
Those on earth have said a final goodnight,
desiring someday to share in this bliss,
when we like you will earn the Saviour's kiss.

I will cling closely to your breast;
on which my wearied head will rest.
I will lie gently on your thighs,
from whence I'll fly to distant skies.
I'll seek refuge in your warm arms,
it always my thunderous head calms.
I will to your heart find entrance,
the moment I'm given a chance.
I will in your smiles take delight,
when from looming trials I take flight.
I will from your voice get comfort,
in times of utmost discomfort.
I will at your heart's doorway wait,
even if your consent comes late.

Sugary, yummy, tasteful
and dexterously
carved out to mollify
my infinite passionate
urge.
The work of celestial
hands once
in hundred decades
seen.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
So unassuming, he enters our world
with shepherds lowly coming to adore
this infant Lord who will freedom herald.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
His star in the east did the magi see.
A star never seen from the days of yore
led them to this great child of low degree.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
His birth this day is marked by angels bright.
Singing with cymbals in a placid night,
they ushered in peace from heaven's great door.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
As foretold by the prophets and the law,
He is born of a ****** chaste and meek.
He will never loudly on the streets speak.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
He is lowly with royal ancestry,
born of David's revered noble gentry.
Men's grievous sins His blue blood atoned for.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
He came to earth with men to empathize.
With us for each state he does sympathize.
Our peace with God He came down to restore.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
A unifying force who will world peace make.
Men of different races sing to adore
this Christ child who will their cleavages break.

Christ was numbered with the poor at birth,
and with the transgressors at death.

Eureka! it's Christmas time again!
A time to reminisce about seasons past
of pizzas hot, cup cakes, icing coated snacks,
home-made lemonade, champagne and Santa's sacks
of choicest toys, newly produced and recast.
Eureka! laughter pervades the plain!
for dazzling lights of astonishing colours
exhibit rare heavenly multicolours
for the yuletide's ambience of pomp and pageantry
in every country tropical and wintry.
Eureka! it's Santa's express train!
A very pleasant holiday time indeed.
When a dream becomes wonderland for a kid
who takes a trip in Santa Claus's speed sleigh
in this great and awesome paradise for play.
Eureka! it's the ding **** season!
A time to raise sweet voices for a reason
A time to sing a heart warming and sweet hymn
in well lit Cathedrals that are hardly dim.
Eureka! it's Christmas time again!
Ding **** the much awaited Christmas bells chime.
The gladdened poor are cheery without a dime,
whilst the rich is cheery with his loaded barn,
each of them spending as much dough as they can.

I woke up early on a Christmas morn.
Gladly waiting for Santa before dawn.
Looking through blinds in anxiety I'd torn,
I'd hoped to see him approaching my lawn,
in costumes in previous years he had worn.
But in disguise he came with a French horn,
playing elegies of demons unborn.
Wheat, barley, oats, rice and grains of sweet corn
filled his socks for a land which was war-torn.
I'd thought the usual Santa would return.
But a different Santa came to fore-warn
me of a nagging menace that had drawn
my nation to the brink, and seeks to drown
her in a season of yuletide to mourn.

As the yuletide bells ring,
the gladdened Sparrows sing,
Red-hooded Santas bring
delights of a joy laden Kid.

Reindeers each of regal breed,
all across the white plains speed
to yonder Snow-covered climes
to take the joy of the times.

Carols in melodious rhymes
sung in the joyous season,
once a year without ceasing
reveal the only reason
why Christmas is for feasting.

The ballot box does my persistent fights convey,
to restore what predatory lords did cart away;
because I cast my vote for good governance to enjoy;
that I may integrity in governance employ
by firing evil men who human rights destroy.

It was indeed an odyssey of excruciating
pain, reluctantly embarked upon
that led to an abrupt farewell
that got you ferried in splendour
by His majesty's service; 'HMS Life Eternal,'
maneuvered by your guardian angels,
on her maiden voyage.
Congratulations for your newfound bliss and
world of non-existent tears.
You have meritoriously earned the Saviour's
warm embrace,
as we look forward to sharing this idyllic world
with you.
Happy eternal vacation to you mom.

Flamboyantly clad,
Feathers arranged in an astonishing
array of colours,
distinctively seen,
brightest of all,
and uniquely adorned for
a century's wedlock in
a bird's haven.
That is I, the Peacock.
The angel with elegance that you
crave for.
An epitome of standards coveted by
models fair.
Endowed by nature with neither
mascara nor lipstick.
But having features elusive that
pageants in a lifetime ache for.

Rose,
The morn is bright
and fair,
and so art thou.
Good Lord! when
shall my envy
cease, for he that loveth thee?
My convincing love words
will never be exhausted
until your highly sought
after hand in marriage I have won.
Contenders from the east, west,
north and south of France
line up by day just for your
consent to seek.
But just as dauntless, relentless
and resilient in battle I have been,
so will I be in my struggle
with these contenders
for your heart's epicentre.

I am here on an archaeological quest,
to satisfy many a curious mind's request
for knowledge on antiques and artifacts
of Egypt's long extinct historical facts,
in treasured sands buried, like gold mines earnestly
sought for in stories shrouded in mythology.
With a large contingent just as curious as I,
hardly daunted by curses, but with shoulders high,
We went to the field, the sun baking us chaps
to a baker's delight. With our rumpled maps,
we searched every clue, and were bitten perhaps
by a million flies. Getting relief from sunless skies
in times of fair weather, whilst hoping something lies
in the depths of the hot sands for our very eyes
to see. With my tools by hard work and search worn out,
I brushed to full view, the tomb, brilliantly carved out
of young blue blooded Tut, regally laid to rest.
To my wearied colleagues I spoke in real earnest:
'To exhume the past, we are here at last.'

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.

Your life's twilight on a
September evening came.
And ferried you were by
crimson cherubs; conveyed
in splendour on a celestial
cruise, to gates pleasant for
a permanent reign.
Your reign on the throne
on a September autumn
exited,
but your indelible legacy
in the hearts of Brits
is enthroned gloriously.

My Lord the good shepherd and fortress of hope.
I gladly rest within thy Calvary's scope.
Where ills, death, torment are never endemic
in a world where strife is largely systemic.

Satan's forces can never with thee contend.
As they tirelessly try my soul to rend.
For in thy hands Lord I deliver my all,
let not the enemy gloat over my fall.

Hide me Lord from the ravenous devil's snare.
Through stalking passions he tries to draw me near
to hell's dreary coast of unquenchable fire.
Keep me from the deceit of this age old liar.

When I achieve eternity's sinless goal,
Lord to thee I will commend my precious soul.
Guarantee my safe passage to heaven's gate.
A celestial realm that is devoid of hate.

My Lord Jesus Christ is king,
Of him only I will sing.
He loves me dearly I know,
And to him only I'll go.

My Lord Jesus Christ is Lord,
He nourishes me with his word,
He saved my doomed soul from death,
When in sin it lacked good health.

My Lord Jesus Christ provides,
And when I am lost, he guides.
Like a shepherd he leads me,
Even when from trials I flee.

My Lord Jesus Christ is good,
In sad moments, by me he stood,
In my moments of despair,
He does my mood swing repair.

Intrepid damsel,
a heroine unsung.
A willing martyr
with courage
unrivalled.
Unransomed captive
with a ransom
infinite.
She gladly faces
death with eternity
in view.
Like her lover before her,
she chooses to be
a sacrificial lamb
to the slaughter.
Leah Sharibu,
the heroine unsung.
She that chose to mortify
her passions
for timeless paradise.
Hardly daunted by
Kalashnikovs and
thunderous explosives,
she inherits a world
deemed abstract by
unfaithful adherents.

Poverty may not necessarily
laziness connote,
and riches may not
necessarily hard work
indicate.
The hand of providence
does its major role play,
as successes and failures
to each man is assigned.
Work resiliently before
the twilight of life,
extending the goodwill
of fortunes divinely
earned,
thus leaving indelible footmarks
on the paths of existence,
because one day,
die we all must,
and our deeds to future
generations will loudly
speak.

You sprout like a flower in my heart,
You erode my frowns with laughter.
My mind is struck by many darts,
each time I view your ****** art.
You always my desires water,
as loving petals from them sprout.
In my loving heart's deepest south,
I feel just you entrenched therein.
None else could my emotions win,
but you, the goddess of men's hearts.

You've kept my heart's dynamite aflame.
You know I can never be the same,
since your charming kiss did my heart tame.
What words can describe your beauty's fame?
No smile can contend with yours' my dame.
It sends sorrow back from whence it came.
Zeinab the sweetheart of Nubian fame,
whose love men would seek for like a game,
each dreaming at the mention of your name.
And if in contention they must maim
dislodged rivals by making them lame,
for your worth, many would never blame
them for such apparent show of shame.

Oh sweet Maria, thou art fair;
from thy feet's sole to thy hair.
Nature flawlessly carved thy frame
like a dame of mythical fame.

Let me to thee my will submit,
whilst our magnetic gazes meet.
Let me a sweet serenade sing,
as I to thee fair roses bring.

To what shall I liken thee?
An angel in realms above,
a mermaid in Oceans beneath,
a costly stone in the fiercest
contention sought for,
or even a costly diamond in the
earth's elusive epicentre buried?
Your beauty is a turning point
reference in your amazing book
of chronicles.

Napoleon Bonaparte

A percentage of me has to hell been consigned
by the ever raging zionists' war machine.
To each livid soldier, a mandate is assigned
to uproot terror where multitudes are confined.
Torrents of explosives have swept my landscapes clean.
Churches, mosques, schools have all to mighty vengeance bowed.
Stricken mothers wail uncontrollably aloud.
Itinerancy pervades my horror stricken crowd,
whilst my kids toy with explosives, carnage and ruin.
Survivors will take shelter from snipers shooting
death ***** and lead from peevish and portable guns.
Horror unprecedented the people outruns.
I have metamorphosed to nothing but a morgue.
Lice and bugs have infested hoodies lined with borg.
Disease and maimed limbs have no remedies in sight.
Let not the world be unmoved by my sorry plight.
Why must I this price pay for a thousand or more killed?
My morgues are beyond their capacity filled.
The deaths of innocents are nothing but unjust.
My once-populated streets have been turned into dust.

I always did fantasize about our diverse earth;
Its freezing stones in the fridges of the Arctic and Antarctic landscapes.
The idyllic playgrounds on the quiet sands of the Mediterranean Sea banks,
The amazing sun baked plains of the smoothened Sahara brown,
The tropical Haven of humid air, where the golden sun awakes in a fair and bright morning, and sets at even with its magnificent crimson smile.
What a cozy feeling can its temperate climes bring; with its sheer abundance of Clement weather.
A paradise indeed of ambient mildness.
I long for the warm gardens of Eden’s residues, with their ebullient and lush tropical green.
How pleasant it would be to cascade down the many waterfalls in an imaginary and wonderland fashion.
To go atop the zenith of each mountainous heaven from which pinnacle point you have the panoramic view of your own vanquished plains.
I once disappeared into the wind, in a midsummer night’s dream to see my global fantasies come true.
And like a boisterous eagle,
I glided high to the heavens for this global and utterly delightful bird’s eye view.

Sometime in December,
2008, our magnetic gaze of love
did more than just speak or act.
It was in wedlock consummated.
And like a dream, ten years have
gone by, as our tender fruits of
affection continue to sprout daily.

Continue to rest on my shoulder
until the sun on our wedlock sets.

I bought boots for Christmas to tread the icy plains.
I bought toys for Christmas with Santas in my trains.
I lit my home for Christmas with a Cedar bright.
I made cup cakes for Christmas for my love's delight.
I bought Jane a dress for Christmas with ribbons pink.
I bought for my grandma a cozy Christmas mink.
I bought for Jill two amazing Christmas Sparrows.
I bought for Jack a toy quiver full of arrows.
I bought an Elk for Christmas with nose giving light.
I bought for Christmas, candles for a solemn night.
I made for Christmas a warm and sweet lemonade,
and I sang on Christmas morn, a sweet Serenade.

I heard an old old Christmas song
sung by grandma on Christmas eve.
It wasn't in good stanzas long,
but it did the joyous times retrieve.
It gladdened my heart which did grieve
over all I thought I'd done wrong,
and could not annually achieve.
It did convey emotions strong
of joyous moments to relive:
Modest gifts, traditional meals
and the sweet scent of warmth that heals.
Contented in want we all shared
whilst our affections showed we cared.
All on our humble home converged,
in living rooms hardly enlarged.
To drink and eat cheap wine and food,
in unrivaled ecstasy and mood.

Corsican born, and an emperor mighty indeed.
Who from obscurity came up to prominence,
who from French shores the attacks of armies repelled,
who had at his disposal, Europe's resources,
who to Saint Helena from French shores was expelled.
Of old Italian nobility he was seed.
Shortish in height, yet towering in ambition.
Military genius of the highest distinction,
whose military strategy is second to none save
Alexander. Whose courage is held in reverence,
whose cradle at infancy was kept in a cave
from strong invading imperialist French forces.
He gave up an empire so vast at Waterloo;
A threat to the memories of his victories past.
Mighty Napoleon, who at Austerlitz excelled.
You did on the beautiful older Josephine cast
your loving eyes, which were hypnotized with passion,
yet focused on so lofty an ambition.
Not even your love for her would rival your love
for world conquest, for which you assiduously strove.

On the plains of Europe I contend for an empire.
On love's battlefields I have contended more for thee.
A stare from your rolling eyeballs consumes me like fire,
as I seek entrance to a world of just you and me.
Mademoiselle Josephine, you are truly my world's wonder.
What precious gem or treasure can I to thee render?
Not even Europe's plundered gold could my love equate
for the diamond damsel I ask for a lifetime's date.
What eloquent poetry could my words for thee describe,
and what tender words of mine could I on thine heart inscribe?
A thousand princes may indeed contend for thine heart,
each of them loves-truck with your magical Cupid's dart.
A thousand more princes may contend for thy dowry,
but relentless I'll be to see their love plans go awry.

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.

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.