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.