A Maiden is like a fire on a dry wood
War quenches by the lift of her hands
Men labour for her and still greet her for the work done for her
Her strength is a course to men
Playing with the hearts of men
But time shall come when she will be weak,pale and old like an old hawk in the desert
A Maiden is like a fire on a dry wood
Men shake by words of her mouth
Kings go to her little apartment every evening asking for her hands in marriage
Her skin shines like a glass
Looking at mirror serves her more than food
But time shall come when she will be weak,pale and old like an old hawk in the desert
A Maiden is like a fire on a dry wood
Men are like waters of ocean in her compound
Her barns are filled with yarn and her basket with grains
Each mould gives her a bigger harvest
Smiling from her well arranged teeth fetches her all she wants
But time shall come when she will be weak,pale and old like an old hawk in the desert
©elias Ifeanyichukwu
©elias1414
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