I found her in our stream
With a pot big like her buttocks
With a lad round like her breasts
And my heart began to steam

The mould of hairs on her head
Were like ripe fruits on a bunch of palm
The legs beneath her body
Were like the pillars of shade in our playground

Ready to help with the pot
I confessed of her charming figure
As the only cure
To my lonely thought

Her smile propelled my world
With the rhythm of life
Her gratitude was my dearest pleasure
With the voice of song

The dots of camwood on her face and stomach
Dancing ear-ring and red beads around her waist
Forever throbbed my heart
That I couldn't asked for much

She was as fat as a melon
And must have had flexible pelvis
A good sign that she was a woman
At last, Mama would love this choice!

But this girl from another land
Not because her name was Adamma
Not because her best food was egusi
But her eyes were only upon my purse!