I will want my daughter to grow up into a young poised woman. Ready to face the huddle of life with a measure of humility and determination only a woman can summon.
I remember the soft supple fruits of your chest, So erect before the smiling moon. They stood so sharp, like your father’s spear, Inviting me to touch, and to fondle.
It doesn’t matter whether you’re married or not. People in the village want to hear of your conjugal prowess so feed them some.