Watching the African Girl

Come with me and see
the perfection
and beauty
of African girl...
as she walk uphills,
water keg on her head
well kept,
on wool braided hairs
without hair-do-
flashing like shining coal.

Beautiful in swinging hips,
all alone from the busy stream.

For fear of rain drawing close,
she gave her foot a running tap,
so as to carry in swift,
her athletic built fast home-
only for her claymade keg
to fall and break,
and loose button shirt
fly sideways
to expose the dangling breasts.

Unashamed of the nearing foots,
she knelt down low
to pack her loss,
giving you time for a sensual view,
yes,
i saw you take your time,
that your throbbing heart had done this ill.

See your eyes bright and well fixed,
in examining the precious breasts...
Dark,
ripe and smooth like asian banana.
Breathless,
your desiring lips,
as you watch her nipples stark erect,
tingling,
ready for a childly suck,
i knew your desire,
looking down beneath her belly to see -
the insanity of Italian man.

They love them much,
African girl.
I'm gone,
yet standing, you still watch-
the backside of her darkly form...
as she desolves into
the green farmland.

The rain starts so strong
and
the wind whistling
reminding you it's time to go home...
You got ground-stucked,
passers-by wondering why,
as tired trees
bends to let us pass.