How to start an ode to one’s  dear daughter
Remains a true protégé to her mighty gist
In the beautiful pearls that they are not loyal
Brains and poetry are not loyal to one,
Yes, they can find abode in any and all,

As the spectre of poetry is haunting Africa,
It comes straight from University of Wits,
Beautiful like an angel in a lion’s roar
She sings and chants in a unique power,
Perhaps available in the paragonic muse,

The voice of reason is out above vice
Often laziness pays as tribute to virtue
As her excellence habitually comes forth
The daughter of Africa here heals my heart
Her small mandibles crests my soul to bliss
Her powerful poetry does marvel to my home,

Vuyelwa is bound above the scent in the name
As she puts melanin in the injured chocolate skin
To restore Africa back to her pedestal of glory
As positive shame in the name devoid of Christ
Is effortlessly condemned to ash pit of selfish culture,

To-night she bits you not to **** her blackness
Nor to accuse her again of being a black Soweto
Out of racial envy to preserve your intolerant self
She has promised freedom of space in your bed
Freedom of space in your royal cultural bed,

Vuyelwa my daughter your birth was happiness
To our poor home in the blackness of Maluleke,
Your slender and tall physique; goddess’s poise
In her holy ministry of poetized freedom to all
Whether white like snow or as black as Africa,
Your only anchorage of prettiness to sing my songs
Sing my songs in the name of our mother
You do Africa proud to manage your gods,

As the spectre of poetry foot loose from nether
Is haunting Africa, with art in vogue and reason
Singing to Africa what others derided to eerie
Africa can too sing in the voices of excellence
In lyrics and other all Africa can sing
African can sing Vuyelwa can sing
Can sing and chant in the voice of the people.