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Still, Of her father Even after hair in her armpit After her four years sojourn in our citadel With puberty wearing her a beautiful toga She remains in the shadows of her father. Of a Mary, The father’s virgin Slim, willowy and parrotic Energetic, ever vivacious with life An Amazon of a kind with a flawless curvature Still, of her a Polyglot not a bigot Her 21st years day was under his nose She can neither sneeze nor Cough of a man near him Still tied to her father’s umbilical cord She is not Virgin Mary Of the Joseph the carpenter But Mary, the Father’s Virgin I laugh only to myself As I dream and await the day the Holy spirit will commingle with her For her holy pregnancy Mary, my Mary Remembering my voyage Of innate curiosity to her And my emotional adventure into her life Then, only then As an innocent dare-devil teenager Yet, I could not unlock her truest life Oh! She regarded it as teenager’s world Of lesser emotional journey Then, and then My dream to fly her like an eagle Was dwarfed by her But for many, the father’s virgin I gave up not For I like ‘morrow’s dream Than the history of the past. Alayande Stephen T. 21st of June 2007 10.15am NB-Still in Iba, meant for Funke Mary Izobo, A friend still tied to the Apron string of her father.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

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