The heat from the hot sun,
Shall mama gladly receive her grandson?
Both are heading towards the last turn,
Her mind beats and burn,
Been long that she left home,
Long before her kid brother could say come,
Excited by the good memories of his infant days,
She noticed the hills and the aged trees.
Nature has not changed,
But her little niece has aged,
Those days when she talk,
She cried for a walk,
The escapades of her sight,
Her eyes had seen the light,
One step, and then another,
She longed to embrace her brother.
She’ll cook for old mama,
She’ll wash for old papa,
The many stories her tongue holds,
…her husband, her five children-all to unfold,
Her life, wasted time, and the drama of fate,
The reason she was foolishly in haste,
Her hour to ‘ask for their forgiveness…’
Tears flowed but she cared-less.
“Hello, any one in there?”
“I that was lost, I am here!”
“Mama! Papa!!”
“I will give the world to see ya!”
And her child pointed to an old scroll,
‘Could they have gone out on stroll?’
After she read the Greek writing,
Then she felt like dying.
© All Rights Reserved. Johnson O.J.Arumona, 2004.
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