Seventh Wonder

Joba the Poète

Seven wonders of the world

yet I trip like the leaning tower of Pisa

when you sing out my name

with a nine minus two, or rather still,

six plus one,

the seventh scale of the seventh chord

you love the most.

What a time to feel this way,

even such is time—

and perchance God did not rest on

the seventh day,

perhaps He spent seven more hours

perfecting your seventieth curve.

But I do not know this story of creation

so well as to whether they were seven days

or they were seven years,

because a woman as you couldn't have been made

in seven rushing minutes, out from seven mortal ribs.

But my darling, I do know what I'll do for you:

I'll cross seven seas,

witness the fall of seven suns,

I'll sing you seven songs

in seven different languages,

seven-seven, double sevens

in sevenfolds, seven seventeens,

count my lives, I've got seven of these

and in each of them I'll choose you,

seven times.

I'll love you like we're in the seventies,

nineteen seventy-one,

seventy-one times seven million ways,

seven discos, seven Star Wars, seven happy days,

you're my seventh of perfections,

my seven muses on seven rainy days,

you are, my love, the seventh wonder

of this wonderful world.