Here’s a sweet African-inspired love and kindness poem.
In the quiet of the morning, before the markets wake,
Your smile is like the sunrise, rising over every ache.
Like rain on thirsty soil, your kindness softly falls,
Turning all my empty fields into gardens on these walls.
You speak, and it’s like home—the laughter, the gentle tone,
Reminding me that even here, I never walk alone.
Your heart is like a village where every soul has space,
Where no one is a stranger, just family to embrace.
You share your last piece of bread, your time, your open ear,
You sit with broken spirits and teach them not to fear.
You pour love like palm wine, sweet, honest, and pure,
And somehow in your presence, the hardest days feel sure.
Your love is not loud, not a storm or a flame,
It’s in every little gesture, in the way you say my name.
It’s in the way you listen when my words come out all wrong,
Turning my scattered feelings into something brave and strong.
I pray our hearts stay gentle, like hands that softly sow,
Planting seeds of kindness everywhere we go.
For love is not just holding hands under a moonlit sky,
It’s lifting one another when the soul forgets to fly.
So let our love be simple, like children’s honest eyes,
Like stories told at sunset under warm, wide African skies.
A love that gives, a love that heals, a love that makes us new—
Because the world feels less heavy
Every time I’m kind with you.
In the quiet of the morning, before the markets wake,
Your smile is like the sunrise, rising over every ache.
Like rain on thirsty soil, your kindness softly falls,
Turning all my empty fields into gardens on these walls.
You speak, and it’s like home—the laughter, the gentle tone,
Reminding me that even here, I never walk alone.
Your heart is like a village where every soul has space,
Where no one is a stranger, just family to embrace.
You share your last piece of bread, your time, your open ear,
You sit with broken spirits and teach them not to fear.
You pour love like palm wine, sweet, honest, and pure,
And somehow in your presence, the hardest days feel sure.
Your love is not loud, not a storm or a flame,
It’s in every little gesture, in the way you say my name.
It’s in the way you listen when my words come out all wrong,
Turning my scattered feelings into something brave and strong.
I pray our hearts stay gentle, like hands that softly sow,
Planting seeds of kindness everywhere we go.
For love is not just holding hands under a moonlit sky,
It’s lifting one another when the soul forgets to fly.
So let our love be simple, like children’s honest eyes,
Like stories told at sunset under warm, wide African skies.
A love that gives, a love that heals, a love that makes us new—
Because the world feels less heavy
Every time I’m kind with you.
