Mama’s wrapper served a fine bond,
Gluing my little body to her curvy back,
Propelling my feet,
such that it anchored tightly against her waist.
Her back felt,
-a soft-cushioned rocking chair,
As she sang my favorite lullaby
And swayed her hips.
Mama would dust
the evil from the ground,
using her dirty wrapper
Protector of the veil,
Just to lay her fresh cleaned one,
Ready for my sleepy head
Words could never touch the hem of mama’s wrapper
Her love shone through it.
Now, it lies folded in a rickety box,
Its edges frayed
An old queen watching over the throne
Reminiscing on the time we shared together.
About the Author
My name is Esere Gibson-dick, a 400 level student of the department Agricultural Economics and Extension. I school at the University of Port Harcourt. I am a poet,who sees poetry as therapeutic and I have come to love it.