Spring Beauty

Her love, while young was like a flower lotus;

A flower that loosens a petal or two from her

Bountifulness and never feels the pains of loss;

Whilst the spring gentle wind comes at her door,

Now at the end of youth her life is like a fruit,

 Nothing to spare, and waiting to offer herself,

 Completely with her full burden of sweetness,

Poured down from her own sumptuous breasts

BY

WILLIAMSJI MAVELI