I scrutinized at him from afar
Gauged germanely from vastness near
Prejudicially love how he fixes his thing
Even if they are notes one can’t sing
He pieces like an ethical man
Not demurring even when juncture demands
Inexorably cognizant of what folks say
To quota his strides way
Like an old-school teacher
Always craving for his legendary switchers
The miens of his alluring eyes
Are like a man imploring the skies
To deliver his labor-laden wife
But to him, oodles of good about life
His tresses sometimes appears shinny
Like a timeworn man quarrying for one penny
His facade always probes “where to”
With never ending hilarious photo
To him it’s a quixotic amiable face
That brands ladies go for a race
He has a plangent voice
That makes the queens cores rejoice
He bouncers his things with pride
Never tolerating any taken him for a ride
He reads like a riled man
That exults after liberating a quantum sperm
In a tenacious and never satisfying wife
During a bedmatic strife
He walks as if on a blistering coal
Like a lion which will not stroll
While in chase of opulent preys
To placate its elongated voracious days
He noshes like a coquettish lady
Refusing to show her undies or body
To make the erogenous groan
To her hubby in their honey moon
More convivially I grasp him as a psychoanalyst
A peddler, organizer, trailblazer, and idealist
His affluence of astuteness is so inspirational
Enlisting all at Halt in a cavernous conversational
Well, from head to toe
On your marks to the term go
He is lovely, friendly, unstinting, and humble
With no peapod in mind for trouble
I chose to carve him this way
For it’s a present for his birthday
His appellation: Joseph Kwame Duku
So when you ogle him, stretch way.
Happy Birthday my dearest friend
Keep the vehement blistering till no end
