Oh my love,

It’s like beautiful dove, 

With an olive in its mouth,

In which you have no doubt.

It sues for peace,

Peace that cannot cease.

Oh my love,

It goes with me as I move.

It is everlasting, 

As long as I last

When I dream of you, I fast.

Oh my love,

A sight of you

Send a fresh breeze of joy

Into my longing soul,

Like a breeze at sea.

Can’t you see,

What I feel

At our meal?

written by Kenneth Ojimadu, 2001

Image by Maura Barbulescu from Pixabay