My Tribute To My Mother Poem by pedro moshood

My Tribute To My Mother



My mama, sweet mother.
Your womb is like Roman fortress
For the African future stars.
My mama, sweet mother,
Your bosom like mount Sinai
Producing honey for African thirsty kids.
Your warm arms like olumo rock,
Sustaining courage from bleakness.
My mama, sweet mother,
Your glowing skin like fresh foliage,
Your nimble feet like a swift panther.
You are the incarnate of Cleopatra.
Your nimble feet treads like feary queen.
I can't compare the constellation of stars
To the firmness of your vegetable skin.
Your tuneful voice like the lark's
Sustains the constellation for days.
Your glittering teeth like white pearl
Provokes the stars to retrace their shadows
I know about the bodily pains,
Akin to Calvary from ceaseless toil,
The labor, stench fruit of sad harvest.
The time I ate pineapple for three days.
I know about the body pains,
The ghostly face, the pale skin,
The conception, the delivery pains,
My fathers death, our eviction,
The family burden heavily laid
Upon a single shoulder to bear,
The exposure to sultry heat,
The laborious work for scanty meal.
The black flour from filthy tuber husks,
The wound you had from wretched flesh,
The pains, the pains from other pains.
Oh, mama, I can see the day cristal clear,
The rising stars, the moon out of eclipse,
Th blooming fruits, the golden fortress.
The bile you tasted today for me to live,
Precious mother, is tomorrow honey;
I've heard the whisper of blessing,
Don't envy the vain glory of crowd fame
That drags them from highway to grave.
Don't blind yourself with tears,
Don't let your trilling voice shrill.
I will not forgo your wise teaching,
Or find alternative to you in a bitch
Or take a swine into wedlock.
Or break the filial untethered cord.
I will not forget you as long as I live
Because a day will come without dawn.

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pedro moshood

pedro moshood

lagos Island, Nigeria
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