By Satyapal Anand
Explore Beautiful Pakistan
Claude McKay wrote a poem with this title—1922)
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Sallying, swaying, gliding
She of Harlem’s hospitable hub
The one who knows the poetry of the foot
Verse of the body brightly black
Bustling busy, impatiently excitable
The Queen of Sheba
With her queenly act
Stands right here on the raised dancing floor.
A feathery fluttering bracelet bra
Hiding, chiding, showing, glowing
A pair of sprightly, spirited globes
Brisk and quick
Arousing, awakening
Satiny smooth and softly spirited
That all can see shadowy cleavage to blackberry nipples.
All can see the lingerie lonesome
A strip, a band, a ribbon-like bar
All can see but no one sees it
The overlay lay-in moves in mind
Peeling and paring the puny piece
A streak, a path, a trail to reveal
Not to the eye but to the fancy.
A pole she climbs with buttocks swaying
Roused are all the front row roosters
Mid-rows all but crane their necks
Back-rows pertly peep and pry.
Pole, no vault, no prance, no jump
The Queen of Sheba
With so many Salmons trying their wisdom of loins
Erect and aloft without Viagra.
