By Gloria Mwaniga
Whose eyes are bright as stars in a dark sky,
Whose eyelashes are long as a cat’s
Whose eyebrows are thick and unshaved,
She has gazed her way into my heart.
She whose lips are round like an egg hatched by a traditional chicken,
Whose smile is like the winding of the river Naromoru,
She, whose gap is like the path to a forest,
She has laughed her way into my heart.
She, whose hips are well rounded like a well molded clay pot,
She whose waist is like an ant’s,
She, whose breasts are small and firm like a young coconut,
She has got my heart beating like a drum.
She, whose calf is strong and tough,
She whose feet are quick to help,
She, whose heart is tender and kind,
She has woven a spider’s web in my heart.
She, whose skin is smooth as pounded yam,
She, whose hair is rough and rolled up,
She, whose hands are tough because of digging,
She will become my mother’s relative.
For I have been to the city and back,
And seen many girls both dark and light skinned,
But her beauty surpasses all of them.
Her rich laugh fills up her thick fleshy neck
Her big heart draws me to her African bosom