I met her at a slam poetry session
I figured her for the Simphiwe Dana type
By how she kept her hair
Long, natural and well kept

She spoke softly but with authority
About social injustices, politics and the like
I got to thinking about her likes and dislikes
Whether the likes of me she would like
I didn’t know which captivated me more

The fineness of her heart or
The fineness of her smile
I stood still as my mind travelled a mile
She had a full figure
And her speech was full of figures

Her thymes were sharp
Her reason piercing
What I saw I wanted to see more of
What I heard I needed to hear more of
She spoke about show offs
She said they were bores and turn offs

I stood gaping at her in awe
This one I have to get for sure
When I do I’m not letting go for sure
Till death do us part for sure
Kind regards