I smelled the sweet perfume
Of beauty in my lens.
Like a vision in my sight
Calling me for a beautiful lady.
That inherited a world of beauty.
And the princess was named ‘Bon’sile’.
Like they are revealing my vision.
That I could relate my roots to the Swazi’s palace.
My sight turns white
But my eyes read a pinkness in her dress.
While the day-dream puns my mind to write.
A poem about a princess.
A poem that will resemble her smile,
With dimples that swallow my heart, I Love You Bon’sile.