Tuesday Poem by Dami Ajayi
1.
Love child
of Aphrodite and Industry,
I called out to you
in whispers and stolen glances
& you did not flinch.
You did not look beyond the waiting room
of infirmities guised in genteel apparel,
did not look beyond the sore routine
of care,
did not seek out my imploring eyes
or find me.
2.
Love child,
of Eros and Amadioha,
I have seen you burst into little tantrums
the fiery kind that unbuckles propriety
with the wild fiddling of a choirmaster;
it says little of your soft side.
Sweeter than nightingale
you sing with gestures,
pliant, purposeful
as you knead healing into
ailing bodies, as you clip
drips with generous deftness,
as you make another’s wellbeing
your livelihood. . .
________
Dami Ajayi remains loyal to readers of his blog
Image Credits: Victor Adewale
