a little more human

Words fail me and gestures falter In an effort to paint a true picture Of whom it is a little more human: She resides among the many But in singleness is dearly If the whole world is running out, she'd tarry And if the heavens come crashing, she would be there to parry When people turn at times to be rude, She turns me on time to the rood. As true as it is to all that Christ has arisen, She's seen me through it all; the reason Why I say she's more of an angel A title she would regard a mere label. Or is it that she is just a little more human? More to it than being just a woman. Right from when it was all tenderly, Up to now when it's all about being elderly, Never seen anything more brotherly. Never seen anyone more orderly I've been wondering and realised lately: She would still call me her baby daily She would still want to cuddle me frailly Infectious attention blossomed by tethered affections Born of her womb the cause of her wound Always ready to thole just to make whole. This is why I call her mama She who was named Hannah Jesus she taught me to holler (not Allah) Nexus: and there would be no wahala. Four of her five she would give away only to reap. One, all of her all she would give away only to heap. She would say is doubtless the way to leap. Since the sproutless time of old She has been teaching me to be bold, And her love has not gone cold. I dare say: She is rare to withhold She is scared to deny She is care personified She is heir exemplified. copyright exclusively reserved Temitope Awolowo 2004