Black Poetry : now the DJ plays a slow song

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during a chilly dawn
crossing the street was a fawn
stopped to ask it its name
shook its head as if to say
are you crazy I’m wild game
and you ain’t doctor Doolittle
and I ain’t the answer to a riddle
then it strolled off
out of nowhere boy appeared rub my butt soft
say, girl ready set hut you got a finer strut
show that fawn how it’s done
drip that sweetness from them honey buns
on the side of my bed I sat
wondering what kind of dream was that

 

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Him love the way She walk to the point
he say, strut saunter or jaunt
it’s all a game to him
the movement of my skirt hem
the feel of my hand in his
knowing our love no one else’s biz
strolling through the park trees
surrounded by the birds and bees

 

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was up all night now it’s first light
eat some yogurt and fresh fruit
across the table My Him in a purple suit
eating oatmeal waiting for his kisses
from the girl he made a mrs
he won’t start the day without them
especially the ones on his left cheek and chin
while affixing a rose to his lapel
whispering in his ear, pray your day goes well
in his suit sew in a godet
making sure I can fit inside his pocket

 

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desserts on the table
he the saucer i the tea cup
and the chocolate fondue has melted up
the strawberries ready for dipping
and the honeycombs dripping
feed Him black grapes
then blue berry crepes
while fondling his nape
for the topping whipping cream heavy
know the boys see me as a bevy
of beauties and our kisses tutti-frutti
use futuristic camera to take snapshots
of a romance that’s scorching hot

 

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She boyfriend a God legit
muscle clad dark and fit
brains wired with true wit
vibrancy in his tone
when he reach my phone
sparkle and glitter on our soul
dares to love loyal and bold
She Black Soul Sista not a redbone
but not alone now headed home
(smile) like a Cheshire Cat
when see “welcome home She”
on the door mat