DEAR NENE

None like my grandma

Dear Nene,

I have tasted the warmth
kneaded on papa’s lap,
but I’m still in dire want
…of the milky pap
that drips in ticks and tocks
from your waggy twin puppies-
the one I call “bobbies”,
still standing at attention
like soldiers on guard.

I’ve rocked papa’s shoulders;
sandy counts have I
mounted on it like
a cowboy on horse-back;
but I still miss the back
that wrapped my fears
and tied my cares
when small mum was away.

I once lay in a womb
different from yours;
for seven premature months
battled I with still-birth,
just to have your name
tagged to my many names,
but in all of these, Nene,
have I wished the inverse:
that I lived in you-
that sty of a manger
fit for rare species like me.

Nene, now I dream!
that one day,
my visions shall live
in that womb of yours
that hived kings and kingdoms.

I dream!
that this surviving half moon
shall swim into your honey-pot,
conquering millions of rivals,
defeating nations, just with a pen.

© Ema Ehizogie 8|03|14