DINE WITH A POET

By Ojo Blessing

Young damsel,
Your innocent eyes
Almost bleach my complexion….

Your gaze
Pierces through my heart.
But you still call me a liar.
Oh, because I am a poet?

Your naive heart believes
All poets are perfect liars.
But how long will you cling
To this ungodly truth?

My words you called lies
Are indeed brushes
That make your face up,
Paint it smiley
And caress your heart
With soothing  flows
Of unending flow.

You have made my pillow
My poetic envelopes.
Yet you are far off…

Come. Come closer.
Closer and c-l-o-s-e-r…
Sit! Wash your hands
In the poetic bowl
Of my ink.

Sit! Sit and have for a meal
Forever…
A well-cooked and garnished plate of words
From a poet!