Was I created by the same God
That created this beautiful creature?

I asked myself.

If she is a living being,
What does that make me?

I asked myself.

Her angelic features, substituted all
The perfect and precious pictures in my mind.
For a brief moment I thought
I was healed from being blind.

Touching her hips,
felt like kissing
Her juicy lips…
Her figures makes a
dumb person to
Shout “Jesus”
And I call them
“the figures of speech”

I call her buhle…

Her glittering eyes simulates the
Reflection of the sun in the
Skies and seas.
She is the most precious stone
In the entire galaxy.

And i call her buhle…

Yena muhle shame
Maaka a dirang
Her nose so sharp like it could
Scratch my brown skin when
We kiss and leave a lovely scar
Right next to my chin.

I could tell by just a sniff
She is heading my way when
She is still afar…

Her teeth so white as snow…
She makes me rush when I am slow…
Steering at her,
Feels like watching my favourite show…
For a matter of fact,
She is my favourite show…

I do not call her like they do
They call her…
Sweet lom’khuhlane
Some call her…
Seponono sa dikoti marameng
Mmago ditshaba, moferehla moikutlo.
Ke ra yena mma kgosi wa bokone
Bophirima legaeng la maswi le mamapo
A dinosi
The mother of all heavens on earth

But I call her Buhle