I cannot afford to fling a laugh..
As I look grotesque at your sweet smile,
which is nothing but the colour of radiant petals,
Your eyebrow, a map to cities sleeping in silence,
The white of your eyes like pure crystals
The glittering of your teeth, describes whitened keys of a customized grand piano-.

The plain of your flawless Oyo skin and smiles
leaves me to say that you're relentlessly gorgeous, your name could be used as the best substitute for beauty in a canon dictionary..

I know you're pretty and widely admired just like embellished Italian artworks,it gets into my head that you've turned me into a songwriter because of my unexplainable..

Your whiteness lightens the universe and he who beholds you, feels like he has the world beyond his feet.
I will sing softly of your lustre, ministering to your soul with my gentle acoustic strings cos you're very pretty, and your laughter is the music of many waters, the melody of silent African brooks.

So I keep singing like the ancient Anglican choir of the name TEMI-OTEDOLA like flocks of weaverbirds on an ancient mahogany tree..

I unbossom my heart only by looking into the tip of your parted lips, which makes me believe you're pretty just the way a painting is.

The death that will **** a hunter lives in the quiver..
The one that will **** a farmer is hiding in ridges
The one that may **** me is hiding in your intentions.

Let me borrow few lines from S. Abanni

Please if you see JTO, tell her that if I could paint like those few gifted hands,
I would make a gallery full of her.
That for me perfect art is just looking into her eyes.
That she is a promise fulfilled.
That from the presence of her memory I can't run away even by dying.
And when you are done tell her I will keep writing this poem my entire life.

and when she smiles ,tell her It's FrankG