Her Name Was Cinnamon

Blessings of Allah, mixed wit' heart and soul.
Birthed by nature, A beauty for the world to behold.
This is creation, A fresh airy sedation.
Slumber falls, Dreamy Creamy, Body on Phat....
I sat watching from afar.
A million dollar note, that many couldn't hold, but I was sold.
The purchase was priceless.
This girl was timeless.
With feminity that was not of this world.
She was my sun, and I, well I wanted to be her moon.
To be the melody that made her move.
But what would I have to give...
To a creature so divine.
With pretty brown eyes and caramel light colored skin....

Her Name was Cinnamon!

This girl was bad, she was angelic.
Definitely Heaven sent, a moment in her prescence was a lifetime spent.
Eternally at peace, all my stress deceased.
I wanted her to be me and me to be her.
One..... Unified by ebony and ivory.
Mahogany, the black Priestist.
Directs matrimony, so charismatic and plain.
Stained like crimson on white,
I wished the world to see my joy.
Like the beams that shoots towards forever in the Vegas skies.
Through her imagination, I see heaven.
To my reality, my ghetto, through her eyes.

Her Name Is Cinnamon....

Beautiful like the black sands, that are found across seas.
She was like the air breathed.
I was so intoxicated, infatuated by her beauty.
This girl made me appreciate everything that was going on around me.
Soundless, time spent around the clock.
Watching her, it seemed to stop.
Melodies played on, concocked by bass and rhyme.
For this Gotham Princess, she was sweet as wine.
And as moments came to pass, I watched this delicate creature enjoy herself.
Building blocks, building words, building the nerve....
It was now or never.
So I spoke, stammering, stuttering, muttering  Jumboliya.
I must have caught her attention.
Or she recognized my fire.
That was a moment, I replay in my mind.

Her Name Was Cinnamon!

My priceless Eygptian find.