There she stands,
five storey tall,
lofty with pride,
never to fall.
She leaps with joy
when folks come,
what astounds me:
nobody leaves dumb.
Her painters are pundits-
they keep her aglow,
not just that;
they help minds grow.
Like the lad, Joseph,
she towers above her siblings,
a disparity so obvious
her diligence achieved this.
Her mind is creative,
she speaks perfect English,
she knows all about history;
our lady is no queer fish.
Her words are philosophical,
an ardent linguist,
she grasps langue de Europe
she's fun to be with.
What more can I say
about my sagacious sweetheart?
The one i've chosen to be with,
the faculty of Arts.
Jude Uchella
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-faculty-of-arts-unilag/
