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Afropolitan madam

Sound tinkles like a china bell.

Filtering the void, echoing a fallen gold coin.

Her coloured fabric layers complexity,

A semblance of mosaic walls.

Native born of pure ethnicity

encasing countenance where interwoven thick pleats fall.

Conversation punctuated with riddles,

Watch as you would the wings of a common buckeye butterfly

Gestures imitate a hot spring’s bubbly middle.

Fascinating as her red lips and matching finger tips.

Memory sighs in reflection.

Darling dreams could not duplicate such find.

She switches sides like the chameleon,

winning a different war each tide.

Antiquity’s wanton caresses have moulded her frame.

Gold and oil leave behind a curious trail,

Oh! Sun-kissed and bronze dame

Why do such splendid sands remain untamed?

Her banter is a transient playground

But her lovely form remains purple, all the way round.

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