It was a sigh that ended in a cry
…seeing you recall the bye
…of your youth’s fly
…in a plane so high
…into memories’ tie
Now you face the court of eyes
All pupils dilate in your fear
Because the clothes of beauty
…leaving the monstrous wrinkles
…which hid in wait of time
They forget they wear same clothes
That time tick tocks to take off
I don’t know what turned you into the ‘witch’
…they seek on their wish-stakes:
The hair which has lost its colour?
…The skin which has lost its tightness?
…The breasts which have lost their stand?
The legs which have lost their strength?
The back which has lost its hold?
The hands which have lost their firmness?
Whatever it is
…wipe those tears from your heroic eyes
For you have tasted flowerhood
…bloomed and fruited
…been green through yellowing to browning
A blessing not all tongues will taste
So please let your fear turn to pity
I hope fate shows their olds
…in the mirror of their future
…as their youths to time are sold
I pray to see them this bold
In their wrinkly cold
As their horns develop in age’s monstrosity
And their youngs put them in courts of witchcraft
So blessed one,
Let sadness climb a bad apata
…your resilience in the right spots
Only criminals act scared
…in a stoning shed
Age should be an advantage
…and not a sewage
…for unthinking brutes!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June, 24, 2019
Dedicated to Sisi Ewura Adwoa and all aged women placed in awkward situations because of unfair accusations.