​A MOTHER’S SPECTACLES

​A mother’s spectacles

Is like a fairy oracle

Her love, making her a congregant in her children’s tabernacle

In them is her miracles

So in their diabolicals, she gets no logicals

Even their unfunny jokes act comical

On a stage most find horrible

Oh her love is so adorable!

II

Who forgets the stretch of stomach walls?

The boiling pain in saucepans of breasts?

Who forgets the load of carrying

Like a world in an ever growing lead in the stomach?

Who forgets the taunting back pain 

Which sounds like the whips of an annoyed demon of hell?

Who forgets the pushing and tearing

Or the knifing and stitching

And oh the grinding of sores

Which swells innocent pores?

Who forgets flattening breasts like fallen pancakes?

Who forgets the bloating and sleeplessness?

Who forgets the culprits of these ills and loves like an enchanted fool?

III

None but a mother

One who can pluck her life from life’s tree

If her own can sit comfortably on it

Oh a mother’s spectacles!

A lens none can get

Without stretching on the life and death path

Of opening life’s doors

Either in heart, mind or body to others

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©September 23, 2017