Golden Brown

You'll never know.
You'll forever be in the dark,
But in this moment you never looked more beautiful.
Sat right behind you, while this man gets his facts wrong,
I can not stop staring at you.

You have become nutrition, satisfaction, you have satiated my taste buds like never before.
I am stuffed, taking you all in.
A meal I have never had and I probably will never have you.
Alas, this will do.

I will not share this compliment like our mutual friend suggests,
Selfishness ingrained in my nature.
I will pretend I am the only one who noticed your beauty,
And how you have put it on display.

Even the strands that are out of place excite me.
I pretend to run my hand through it,
Your field of Golden Brown.

Around The Corner (Hamster's Letter 5)

My Dearest Hamster,

I saw you yesterday. On that piece of furniture that is so dear to us.

The day was going on as it usually does, at walking pace. I closed my eyes for a bit, went for a mental stroll. There you were, in a floral-patterned sundress. You popped up from around the corner as though I were waiting for you, as though we planned this rendezvous.

You smiled, and like the first time you did, it lit up my world. Like a high depicted in a film, everything was brighter, everything was exaggerated. So was my world when you smiled.

You took my hand and your fingers slid in between mine. Ushering me to our two seater, wooden frame with blue cushions. Forever inviting. We sat and we talked, our favourite past time. We caught up on life, you filled my ears with your joys, your woes, your worries, you filled them with it all. And as with me when it comes to you, I listened with the uninterrupted attention of a child at story time. I took you all in, the highlights in your hair, the way your eyes darted around every detail of my face. Occasionally pausing to smile at me and the unbroken eye contact we had established since we sat.

We talked for what seemed like an eternity.

Eventually, silence fell between us. We sat in silence, it wrapped itself around us, kept us warm as the sunset with you in my arms. Alas, the crimson sky and the growing presence of streetlights greeted us and you rose from my arms, For the first time since our encounter, you leaned in to kiss me. A kiss that conveyed your feelings more vividly than words could have done. And with my face in your hand you smiled and I knew it was time. Time to leave.

And as you disappeared around that same corner, I woke. With a smile that followed me to reality.

I stood up, cleared my work station and left. As i said my goodbyes to my colleagues around me, my thoughts strayed to when next we would meet. And with that, I smiled, a smile that will last me till the next time we meet in person.

Yours always,
Ade.

Gratitude For Bed

Hello dearest friend,

You are the one I look forward to at the end of every day. Maybe even during the day. But I do so subtly as though it were a secret.

I hate leaving you at the break of day, you are always sweetest at this moment. You save you sugary comfort till then as though you know what you do to me. But I doubt you do.

What do you get up to during the day, when I am gone?
When you are fresh and smooth?
Who keeps you company?
Do you just wait fro my return?

How about when I leave in a hurry and leave you in a mess?
I imagine if you could feel, disappointment would be just right. This is because of the comfort you hold, the comfort that is appropriate no matter the mood. The way you hold me is always just right. There might be a restlessness at first, but we eventually get there you and me.
I always return to the world in a better and brighter mood thanks to you.

So I make extra effort to ensure you are laid well, in addition to the right thread count and pillows for company.
Forever grateful for bed peace.

Morning Nuggets

I miss the days with my father.
The silences shared, the nuggets passed down, the lessons taught.

My heart always cries out  for home.

I have always known my dad, but now I have a vivid picture of who he is.
What I had prior to this moment was an outline.

He said to me, "I love the mornings."

I never knew that about him.

"I love watching the morning unfold. The progress from dawn till day."

He spoke about the songs the birds sang to announce the miracle about to come to life.

"God is good." He said.

I related with this logic, the morning had our minds in sync.
We were siamese.

It feels great to know that in other ways apart from a blood bond,
You are one with the people who ushered you into the world.

As I watched this Sage speak briefly about his appreciation of the mornings,
I found my love, admiration and respect for him grow a tenfold.

Now, away from home, my bowl is empty.
All I find myself doing is craving for more.
I can not wait for you to accept me back home with open arms.
And like Oliver, I will be coming back for second helpings of your morning nuggets.

A Jolt Of Warmth For This Loner

I cleaned out my desk today.

The letters you wrote me still live here.
They did not surprise me, it was more of a jolt, maybe even a rush.
An overflow of a lot of things that I have not yet identified.

Every time I clean up, I can not seem to throw them out.
Years have passed and not even the table top remained the same,
Yet the presence of your letters are the only constant.

Would it be too much to say they still hold your smell, both letters and cards?
I did not read them this time. I just stared at them, as if I were drawing out the spirit of what we had that lives within them.

Sometimes I still bother to read them, I guess to remind myself of the warmth you provided.
To remind myself of how agonising it was to be apart.
The moments filled with lust shared in deserted college hallways.
The quiet ones shared as well, where words didn't exist but everything was right because you were there.

I see you now and try to dive into your soul with a stare.
Wondering if you are still the same, or if I'd be able to live with the new you, or if I'd be too stuck in the past to appreciate her.

A warmth still lingers, I felt it, Lord knows I felt it when I traced the words you wrote down for me.

I don't read into it anymore, it is the price paid for loneliness. There is too much space in my mind, and my thoughts have echoed around me for too long. I tend to latch onto whatever light I can find.

Or maybe this is me lying to myself once more,
Afraid to admit to myself I could still feel something for you after so long.

For now, a jolt will do just fine.

Queen

She carried herself like a champion,
She was one in my eyes.

Exalted, she shone with the glory of the Lord.
Speaking His word like a prophet.

Couldn't have been older than 10 or 11, she carried herself like the Queen she was.

Honored to be given the responsibility of the sermon, she did it justice.
Speaking and preaching the word of God with all the seriousness the Lords word deserved,
Switching to her mother tongue, I became jealous of how vast her Yoruba vocabulary was.
The words rolled off her tongue with ease.
Her phonetics immaculate, I was envious of her confidence.

She paused for a brief song, the crowd joined her.
It was an enlightening event to witness. After the sermon was wrapped up, a standing ovation followed, deservedly so.

In those few minutes she ascended to a Queen through the glory of the Lord.
No longer a girl, far from a woman. We had witnessed a miracle.