Sweetheart, Even Your Granny Warned Me:
I followed the damsel I met in the church home
To meet the people that ate from the same pot with her
To take their liberty to move her from their dining table to mine
Because I've come of age to stop eating mama-thank-you
And my mother has come of age to carry her grandchildren
Or so she's been saying a little too often to my hearing
Put your ears down to hear my whisper_
My damsel has many beautiful sisters in her household:
Chidimma has a figure to distract the driver of a truck that has lost brake
Chioma's hips are like clay poured into a pencil-skirt mould
Kelechi's breasts stand up to every occasion;
Her nipples struggle for notice through her silk top
It made my hands tremble!
Ozioma's voice, like her skin, is as smooth as oil poured on marble
But truth be told, my damsel was fairer than them all put together
I met the man under whose roof these treasures lay
He asked me which of the apples I so desperately want to pluck
Ifeoma, of course, the smoking hot beauty I met in church!
He held my eyes and asked like an experienced man
"Do you know she has smoking hot temper?"
I thought that was good humour:
I kept nodding like agama lizard until he gave me her hand
On the day our family and friends drank to our love
Ify's grandmother called me aside
"My son," she whispered between her few widely spaced teeth
"Don't marry her. She has hot temper!"
I turned and looked around; does comedy run in this family?
How come they all tell the same joke?
But, the fairest one proved me wrong on our honey moon
She proved her father and grandmother right now and again_
But I still love her like ever before
I only remind her when she goes off the lain:
Sweetheart, even your granny warned me about this.