The Hand That Minds the Author

THE HAND THAT MINDS THE AUTHOR ( for Christie Achebe) The hand that minds the author What is life like rivalling words? When you decked your bed with persian sheet And stuffed your pillow with the autopedics When you perfumed your room with arabian scent And wore your pyjamas to thrill and kill In books he shrouded himself Romancing words like butterfly roses Hours on your feet you stood Tampered butter,tampered flour Gazing clock,gazing oven; Icing sugar and fondant craft You perfected, though fluffy, His appetite was for words When he woke you up from slumber Asking for neither food nor peck But only to appraise his newest bride: ''How do you see this Christie?'' Often you yielded:''words are paints With which your rainbow is made.'' Your fortitude is commendable: 24/7 in libraries Visiting schools,visiting books Pruning students, pruning teachers; But when Christie,when did your Hearthrob come to you?