I recall you told me
when we talked over the air,
you would come to see me like a VIP.
At Nekede, I’ve with fanfare
been planning what to show you:
an umbrella tree, a bloom here,
a crooked path there; yonder a grove
close to it a wellspring, on this side a slope
on that a stream glare.
Indeed, madam, I know nothing
so charming as this place
where nature spread so rich
a mantle under the eyes,
yet these splendors are mere shadows
without you to behold their beauty.
© Ugo Nkwoala | Spilledwoords.org | 2021