THE LOVE OF HOUSERS

I love him,

I love her,

I love these,

I love those,

I love them all who have stayed in the inner me

The ugliness of a little monkey

In alien eyes

Is the beauty its mother sees.

Bad traits changeth no motherly love

Those moons of nine,

Those sicknesses of the fullness of the belly

Those teary skins and painful cuts,

Add to the treasure of every houser.

Make no mistake,

Like the love of God,

The mother of the armed robber’s love changeth not,

That of the fool changeth not,

That of the corrupt changeth not,

That of the irritant changeth not

Those pangs of hurt will always live in a

Motherly heart with every risk its seed takes

Make no mistake

What you abhor is like the heavenly chorister

That someone is happily listening to and praying and wishing well

That order of creation won’t change today or tomorrow,

By amoafowaa