Ajoke, the gods has cursed me to Praise thy beauty Like a sugar-cane planted at a river-bank Your beauty is magically comely Thy phat smile is an epiphany I wonder the mystery of the water that Dwell in the Coconut of thy beauty Let me adore your well-made eyeballs They are like traps laid in the forest for Antelopes Something the mirror won't tell you about Your dimples is that they give death to death The village priests said your smile can be use to appese the gods Not to invoke their wrath Something about your dexterous waist They are like prison guards when dancing Guilding my hearts. Ajoke your beauty is an epiphany.