°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Did you ask whether she’s beautiful? That’s a meiosis! She’s an embodiment of emerald, gold, and silver. The Eldorado of aesthetics. True epitome of beauty.
If you ask whether in her prime, she attracted that much? Then I would answer that Methuselah is indeed older than you. Even Ozymandias, the King of kings, could not suitably be a suitor. None of his poetic romances could ever woo her nor tame her fame. She elegantly, majestically and profoundly beat dead the sound of a name akin to her genus, class, family order of kingdom phylum. Far beyond the human specie. So ubiquitous and tantalizing.
Growing up, the mention of her assuaged the hunger of men who had burning lust for her. Then, a mere eye sight banished their thirst for living water. Oh! She carried such a greatly profound fame of beauty with all the necessary natural endowments. Nothing was bereft of her cut out. That I mean, she’s truly womanly.
Was she aware of it? Of course yes. The community drum beat a rhythm to her tune every blessed passing day. Even the walls of the province had graffitis of her nudity.
Distant lands longed to merely know her just to adore her. The province was so so lucky indeed to have had such a scarcely one in a million jewelry. In the past and for every passing festival, the choice of the holder of the forbidden calabash was distasteful. Some unwise, unpalatable choices held it to the discomfiture of the populace. The priests and the young kindred perpetually prayed for such a one to emerge by accident to hold it and to unleash that permanent comfort long searched for but amidst. Lo and behold, she erupted with the vulcanicity of a molten magma.
While everyone patronized her beauty, the need to marry her off throbbed the hearts and minds of her people without repining reverberation. One question lingered the minds of her peers: how then shall we brag of our solitary beauty, for we have no other in her bracket of beauty? But this was just an infantile thought. Great minds readily prepared for such a day to ripe and arrive for the testimony of a better pick from the bad to be shared and heralded.
There and then, we arrived. It was like a communal labor. Young or old actively and massively laid their hands on desk. At such a crucial juncture, the hatred for never winning her company and love mattered little or not at all. It was just absolute passion, commitment and allegiance. Everyone danced to register their backing and support for her good but fruitful marriage. Hail thine, the spectacular beauty of our generation. You never yet have an equal. We bow low to your salute. Happy is good to opine but ecstasy is better. Derogatory remarks stalled for mutual goodwill.
Just after a while, the gem, colossal and the happy-go-lucky lady queen beauty birthed. She birthed forth first a gent. She was praised for such a hard work and hard luck.
To be continued………
Times and the Reality 