FEED MY MIND

There are varying animals

In this rounded ball

This rounded ball

Whose hairs are weeds and feeds

II

Each has its loves and likes

Only the lost knows not theirs

So I will tell you

Feed not my eyes

Feed my mind

So I can draw you in

III

I am a good book

With many blank pages

Under the topic of love

So I need a writing in ink

To fill them up, not flowers

Which will wilt or grow old

IV

So pour in words

Words through the sieve of my mind

Where dust can never get to

To give me the unpleasantness of dusting

Words which old age can never make dim

V

Give me words

Words whose fullness will be company

When I fall into the mouth of the earth

I don’t need flowers, which can’t go with me

Feed my thoughts to teach my heart to smile

Feed my mind to form its security

Flowers have their audience

Words are what I crave for

So feed my soul with words

Bonding words

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015