Making Magic

Sugar, the sweetener;
Shoes, the sun-stepper;
Color, the swag-wagger;
Poise, the slay-layer.

Fifty shades of brown found a nation
Scattered fine in sunset sensation
Skin glowing like the second before creation
Strong enough to have multi-suns in uni-verse
Batting wings of glitter and smoke
Watch angel-wing eyelashes grow
Dab a little off the top
Oshé… perfect makeup

A fine gown to match your princess crown
— That black halo of Nubian royalty —
A silk caress tracing every mound
Flowing from your hips all the way down
Like raindrops with an affinity for cloud
Like Okra clinging to the great white round
Afraid to rejoin its kind on ground
A fine gown, dear princess of the crown

Now to choose you some shoes
so people can’t refuse
second looks, second peeks.
Some shoes to perfectly
express the grande beauty
of your supple tender feet

Golden rose-heeled peep-toes…?
They would go with your toes I suppose
Precise and slender
Bright like the weather
On point like the carpenter
who nails it like an archer
Or them grown stilettos…!
for the pump and the pride
for the bounce in your stride
Bernadette had French heels
Isabel, espadrilles
But for you, my adored,
it’s the best I’d afford

So… thus… time… has come to…

Slay your way ‘to hearts unprepared
Stay your smile, let flashlights reflect
Feed your energy
Strut in dignity
Shoes, your gown, and carpet’s all red

Let the cam’ras ask their questions
Tell the world you are attention!
Wag the swag a bit
Flaunt Folabomi™
Show them true designer fashion.