My mind defies velocity,

yet overthrows friction,

my heart is steerless,

and my pulse becomes nitro,

when she walks like speed,

the tachometre of my eyes,

measure fluorescence,

the odometre of my soul,

detects golden joy,

and the speedometre

of my heart,

declares that she

has given me the franchise

for freedom

She is the only crystal

that breathes,

I make a toast to

her reign,

with the cherry wine

of her lips and kiss

them till redemption

is the fabric I wear

and the swagger of my heart

is the new designer ware

on the marketless market

of wisdom.

                               S.T.

                                              By Kakraba Afful