He decided to write her….
I never thought the time we shared could be so little, yet your image is still vivid in my mind. Sometimes I tried to think all was a dream, thinking you’re a goddess showering my dreams with splendour but every time your smile still spellbound my thought and all I saw was
the gown you wore kneeling down on the pews and…He stroked it out and decided to write something more eulogizing… was your charming beauty flooding the mind. Your fluffy dress, your smile, your dimple all has entangled my mind and these days I find it hard to think of my own except for having a shade of you, sketch beside my wall.
He thought about the first paragraph and shrugged. His thoughts flashed back at her. The elegance in her gait has she sat on the left pew. He has always heard love comes first sight, even read Dante’s Beatrice. He thought about how Dante would have felt seeing Beatrice in the purple gown of roses design. He took a glance at the sided photograph of her near his table, in his mind he was sceptic if things would ever be has imagined. He picked his pen to continued his letter when he heard a knock on his door—
His mom was standing at the doorpost
‘Are you busy Terry?’ she asked standing at akimbo.
‘Not really.’ He answered her before she could ask another.
‘Was thinking if you could come to the kitchen to help me with some chores.’
‘Are you still unpacking your loads since three days ago.’ She cuts him short as she shoves her way into his room. His bags were still scattered in the room, only his books were arranged neatly on the wooden table. His shoes were discarded in his room only a pair seems to lay neatly beside the wardrobe. Terry’s heart began to pump faster has his mother moved towards his reading table— ‘writing your poetry again?’ ‘Yes’ He said has he moved swiftly to his desk. ‘Make sure you clean this room before coming outside, TODAY!.’ she said stressing her last word and scampers out. He knows the threat doesn’t mean a thing, she said so yesterday. He sat back in his clothed-wooden-chair and increased the volume on his headphone playing Ed Sheeran. His mind focused on the picture and he began…
Honey is sweet, but you are sweeter. If I had known that it will be so soon I would have told you when we met on the streets. It wasn’t as I thought until the next morning when Dad woke us saying we were leaving that day. Then I realized I would be living my days in emptiness without you to flash me those angelic smiles.
He stopped writing and his thought ran back to the morning. He was on his bed, thinking about how he would face Isabella and tell her his mind when he’s Dad came in— ‘you are still sleeping!’ ‘We are leaving by Ten, didn’t your mother ask you to start packing. Or are you still waiting for her to help you with it?’ He storms out of the room. The next minutes filled with darkness of unprepared memories, pains shot through his mind shattering the dazzling image of Isabella into a mosaic picture. He looked around the room, he couldn’t believe he will be leaving the house he grew to know in a twinkle of an eye. He thought about his friends in his class, he thought about his teachers and then Isabella, the new girl in his church which lives three houses from his. Thousands of pictures materialized in his mind has he tried to concentrate ‘darling you look perfect tonight, and I found a woman….’ the music blares softly from his headphone bringing him back to the reality. He adjusted his book and sat to continue his work, next to him his wristwatch ticks 10:15 am. He thought about his lines carefully and begins.
If only the stars could be used to describe your beauty he ruled it out and starts another line.
I may lack the perfect way to say this perhaps I may be too crude in expressing my feelings. From the first day I saw you walking regally
in that red gown he smiled at the sided picture. ‘Silly me’ he beats his head with his pen. in your cajoling gait, my heart merried. I wish I could qualify what I felt with words. The tenderness in your demeanour brought paradise to my earth, the sweetness of your voice soothes my pain, the rows which you set your hair, the nectar of your lips, your gentle touch on the pages of those books has become a living whole of you in me. I know I lack the perfect pleasantries, yet we conversed like we have known for a long time, I wish I had known you all days of my life. The moment I saw you, you spellbound me to your charming pulchritude. Every night, you are whole in me, in my thought, beside me, you are a lamp to my darkness, an illumination in the maze, a quintessential of beauty, I wish you could hold me the way you tenderly hold your he stroked it out while his mind raced back to Isabella turning the pages of her Bible. Sitting there with splendours showering on her, no eye could have passed her without turning an idolizing look at her. He thought about their meeting on the street, the deepening of her dimple when she smiles, the nectar of her lips, the radiance of her skin, the sonorous of her tone that could light fierce fire, he thought about her countenance that could make a man stumble. The clock on his wall struck 12:00 pm, he decided to rest and continue when he wakes up.
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Awosusi Oluwabukunmi Abraham is a student at the University of Ibadan, Department of History. A poet, essayist, and short story writer. Hails from Ekiti, Nigeria. His works have been featured on Merak magazine, Kalahari magazine, poetry anthologies and other places. He greatly believes in the concept of the cultural renaissance.