Beauty is simple, beauty is you
Beauty is the milky smile slaying
Between your heavenly red lips
Treating my ears to rhythms of wisdom
Every time they part for audible whispers
Of images of the future to come, or
Even when they hold mine.
Beauty is you
Beauty is your svelte fingers cradling my ears
On return from a tickling run through my hair
To lay on my chest in one slick movement
That confirms me both priest and habitue
Of your Chapel of graceful endearment
Receiving love dispensed without measure.
Beauty is your sweet soul
Treating me to elevated reason at night
Sparring with figures: bonds, treasury bills,
Regulatory code and the intrigue of Ponzis
In weighted words of awe and compassion
That tickle my senses enough to want more
For you, for me and our smart kids to come.
The world maybe has many words for beauty
Brandished as stressed catwalk at pageantry
But everytime I behold your graceful walk
I am reminded that beauty is simple
Beauty is you holding my hands to your waist
Urging me to sleep and live a little
Jut before my mind hurries to its next labour.
(c) Tobi Adebowale, 2017.