Many moons ago Although we were so young
We were nature’s second sun
We were always on the same page
I crossed your t’s
You dotted my i’s
Days, weeks, month, years
Out of the blue I got an e-mail from you
“I got married” was all I did read
Were you just bringing my wheels up to speed?
Or was it your nickel for my thoughts?
The earth was flat
The sun spun around the earth
There is a ring on your ring
And a knot on my throat
Winter succeeds Autumn
Spring will always follow
The sun will rise tomorrow
And you’ll still be…
The first woman I ever loved
I speak of love, don’t be mistaken
I speak of being, not making
Today I wonder why we never tried long distance
But there is no point trying to insist
It’s all water under the bridge
But is it? It isn’t
I would have thrown caution to the wind
Just to see you in your wedding dress
Reality check, I should just
Click reply and wish you happiness
Winter succeeds Autumn
Spring will always follow
The sun will rise tomorrow
And you’ll still be…
The first woman I ever loved
By
Edgar Munguambe 010411
Welcome, I'm Edgar. I hail from Maputo, Mozambique. I've summed up my life into three categories: life, love, and lyrics. Life concerns the things that happen in my immediate surroundings and global surroundings. Love is anything I feel passionate about, my vast interests. Lyrics include all my writings, it's also something I feel passionate about, but since it is at the core of my interests it deserved a separate category. Feel free to comment, I'm open to new ideas. Peace
Thursday, June 23, 2011
In the beginning there was you
Labels:
Edgar Munguambe,
first love,
poetry,
waterford kamhlaba
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Soul Food
The soul will ooze out of my pores
If art I choose to ignore
The soul implores for food
Creative arts is the diet required
Better skills in time will be acquired
For now any soul food will do
To quench my constant desire
By
Edgar Munguambe 030411
If art I choose to ignore
The soul implores for food
Creative arts is the diet required
Better skills in time will be acquired
For now any soul food will do
To quench my constant desire
By
Edgar Munguambe 030411
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
The Sun Rising by John Donne
Busy old fool, unruly Sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?
Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?
Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
Late schoolboys, and sour prentices,
Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
Call country ants to harvest offices,
Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
Thy beams, so reverend and strong
Why shouldst thou think?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,
But that I would not lose her sight so long:
If her eyes have not blinded thine,
Look, and tomorrow late, tell me
Whether both the'Indias of spice and mine
Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with me.
Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday,
And thou shalt hear: "All here in one bed lay."
She'is all states, and all princes I,
Nothing else is.
Princes do but play us; compar'd to this,
All honour's mimic, all wealth alchemy.
Thou, sun, art half as happy'as we,
In that the world's contracted thus;
Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
To warm the world, that's done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;
This bed thy centre is, these walls, thy sphere.
The Sun Rising
by John Donne
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?
Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?
Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
Late schoolboys, and sour prentices,
Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
Call country ants to harvest offices,
Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
Thy beams, so reverend and strong
Why shouldst thou think?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,
But that I would not lose her sight so long:
If her eyes have not blinded thine,
Look, and tomorrow late, tell me
Whether both the'Indias of spice and mine
Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with me.
Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday,
And thou shalt hear: "All here in one bed lay."
She'is all states, and all princes I,
Nothing else is.
Princes do but play us; compar'd to this,
All honour's mimic, all wealth alchemy.
Thou, sun, art half as happy'as we,
In that the world's contracted thus;
Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
To warm the world, that's done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;
This bed thy centre is, these walls, thy sphere.
The Sun Rising
by John Donne
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