Who would tell her

We stared at her window
As we watch her cook their meal
The aroma! The angels savour her hands
The sky kiss the smoke departing
Our bellies hail its divinity

The smile on her lips
As she takes hold of the table
That warmth it shares
Cuddle the lying dog in its space

The Love they shared
Has ridden the bicycle of years
Leaving them all by themselves
In the house they bought

Who would tell her
Who would break the news
As we borrow each other eyes

Who would tell
The old man has taken a long walk
In the shattered road of the day


Photo courtesy: smithsonianmag.com


About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
This entry was posted in Poems and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Who would tell her

  1. oloyede says:

    nice one Micheal


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