Richie Maccs:
Where is my love among these beauties that throng the streets?
Where is she that my heart may glory again?
Is she faceless, is she voiceless?
I need a love, a love to relish my poetic praise!
Kevin Orato:
She walketh in the midst of motley faces
Lives, eats, breathes in total obscurity
Completely unaware of a love reserved for her
Or is she in the light and is merely in cheeky hiding?
Richie Maccs:
She lies under the shadows of lovely roses.
Kevin Orato:
She glimpses from a silk vein designed for secrecy.
Richie Maccs:
The sun’s radiance glows her face, she smiles,
She laughs! Her laughter is infectious
She struts proudly among the many faces.
Her voice is peace; her skin is of the color of love!
Kevin Orato:
In her ribcage her heart exudes,
Love unparalleled though limited to her aura only,
Her smile! It glints; I will need to shade from the gleam,
Yes the shine! Her goodness is palpable,
There’s none as half as amiable, there is hardly a way
She could possibly harbour a stain.
Richie Maccs:
Gentle and amiable, her eyes smile peace,
Honest to the point of naivety, her virginity is her treasure,
Where is she, among the women of the land?
Her eye lashes are long and slope towards her ridge,
Her lips are nectar; honeyed words are her mumbles,
Where is my love among the thorns that grow by?
Is my love chocked by the hasty jealously of thorns?
Kevin Orato:
I enquire in the concourse, at the confessional box,
I ask the birds and the fishes in the waters,
Have you seen my pulse?
Without her I’m as dead as a walking vampire!
