Abdala

Dice, nice, vice, mice, rice, price;
Love is always like a flower freshened by water!
But i am the eyes to the blind and the feet to the lame,
For my steps are bathed with the cream of love.
Oh Abdala my love!
My lips are like the honeycomb;
So do not spend the night in the open square!
For my virgin daughter is home at last,
And like the chronicles of your mind before.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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