I have known rivers that have run out
Their sleeping places weeping on blame of thirst
But you in your small spots
On varied chests, feed the world
From vacant suckers to the teeth full
Not only do you subdue man
Into knowing his forever child-like nature
You give women the pride of shape
Our pampering, even in loving runs
Telling tales of your value
Oh you pots which never run useless!
The standing you, order many into bonkerhood
The fallen you tell of your good works in world building
You are like a sea on the softer man
A sea in which many swim into sanity and or insanity
You are the manna for the world’s new visitors!
The clutches of passion!
The honour of world feeding!
We know many stifle you in showcasing
We know many anoint you into a man charm
We know many suffocate you in clothes coated in dirt
We do know of those who never pay heed to you
But make sure you honour your duties
But these would never make you less of the saviour you are
You are the first food of man
The first teacher of tongues in sweets and sours
So your celebration remains a ritual
Even if mouths sing not of your goodies
Pots whose food never run out
Some call your younger you titties
And your elderly, tartars
Others call you boobs
We know you as breasts
Pairing angels in tender feeding!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©October 4, 2017