The Woman Of My Dreams

Her voice echoes in the depth of my being
Her **** silhouette gently caressing the frame of my thoughts
She is magic, she is majestic, and she is love personified
How I long to conquer the contours of her magnificent body
Her golden heart the only jewel to quench my thirst for world possessions
Hope she’ll visit me in my dreams again tonight…
Hope she gently strokes my ever aching heart with her soft wings till I fall asleep
Will you visit me in my dreams again tonight my love?
(T.W.O.M.D)
The composition of her stature perfect to my uncontaminated gaze
The purity of her intention written in the corners of her angelic smile
Her hips swaying with splendor from side to side
She is temptation personified…
Enchanted by the glow of her skin my good judgment compromised
(T.W.O.M.D)
In unison our movement choreographed in heaven above
Electrifying our touches tantalizing causing the earth to quake
Our energy with bright shooting stars light up the dull winter sky
Moving to the harmony of ecstatic groans and moans
We are one and the world our Eden
The fever of our union brings forth an early spring as flowers blossom  
We paint picturesque art with every gentle caress and deep deliberate ******
(T.W.O.M.D)
The essence of humanity born as we conceive our first born child
A love child born of a perfect love never to be tainted
A beautiful creation born of the most pure of intentions
Her name a symbol of a love divine
An everlasting reminder of a faultless love for The Woman Of My Dreams



Sayamo Dikana

Beautiful...
Painted; the word beautiful would take the form of a woman,
It would be brightly coloured to resemble the she spirit.
It would be gentler than a feather,
So gentle it wouldn’t pop a soap bubble.
I bet it would be stronger than titanium,
A gentle kind of strong typical of woman.
Every brush stroke would express her perfection,
Her delicate figure formed with each painted line.
I bet the word beautiful wears a yellow dress,
She dons her brilliance both in smile and apparel.
I bet she slays the devil in a red dress.
When she walks her hips rhythmically sway from side to side,
Her gait even and deliberate.
An angelic orchestra plays when she laughs,
A slight quiver in the corners of her mouth as her eyes light up in a smile.
Beautiful.
Her poise…an object of veneration like a rare butterfly,
Spreading affection and joviality with every flap of her fairy wings.
A festival of sensation; enchanting sight, mesmerizing hearing, thrilling touch,
Delighting smell, Captivating taste and Spellbinding intuition.
In a word BEAUTIFUL.

Sayamo Dikana

An angel flew past from where I stood today
Her wings spanned so wide she covered the sky
Casting a tender shadow above my head
Protecting me from the sun’s vindictive rays
For a moment, for that moment I found succor
I found solace from underneath an angel’s wings.

Gazing at my own flesh I discovered scars
Scars from whence their nails had perforated my hands
I found scars from whither their shackles of deception were secured…
On my hands and ankles
Daggers, stained with my blood still ***** in my back
Where with superciliousness they stabbed

An angel flew past from where I stood today….
My body a canvas of pain as blemishes of their whips titivates my skin
For every laugh shared is nothing but a lash of wicked whips
Blood clotting on my sliced wrists from when they opened their mouths
Their razor sharp tongues sliced through every nerve and every vessel
Finger nails pulled out to test my loyalty towards these masters
My locks pulled out strand by strand to make sacrifices to my living “gods”

An angel flew past from where I stood today
Her wings gently caressing my soul
Her touch a cure to my aching heart
She whispered in my ear bringing relief to my over exerted mind
Said she couldn’t take away the pain nor heal the scars
Said my pain was a book of wisdom and the scars the illustrations
Said it was my guide, a map I had to take where ever I went….least I got lost
Sayamo Dikana