My Elida, My Mama

8/17/2019 My Elida, My Mama

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My Elida,

My MamaAdelere Adesina


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Adelere Adesina

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My Elida, My Mama

to my sweet and beautiful mum, Elida


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My Elida, My Mama

One of the greatest treasures on earth is mother.

Whereas it is a great gift to have a mother, it is

eternal joy to have a mother that cares and loves.

Elida is not just my mother ― she is the core of my

life and my breath.


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My Elida, My Mama

A Little Comparison Will Do

A little comparison will do:

you are the Sun's magnificent raining

that brings forth lights for my path,

and sheds my love abroad

and makes my chloroplasts dance for joy –

chloroplasts of passions for humanity –

and tarries to feed my night

with echos of glories of moonly skies

in colourful paints of the dotting stars.You are the sun, and all its beautiful touches

and beyond the sun in awe devotion.


you are the fire of my hearth in winter

where with shivers like trembles of earthquakes –

a thousand in the way of thousands of them –

I come in a long, thick, covering cloak;

but with the most hopeless dimness of the night sky

and icy hands of the twin of death laid on me,

a little splinter of flicker you glimmered


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My Elida, My Mama

and reinforce with fires of no threat,

no, not even to threaten a fraid mutt,

but the sparkles of who lay hand on the hands

and raptures away my cold and lifelessness.

And this fire and hearth for my heart and embers for my

members –

aye, each of the breath within me – and more than these you are.


that you have no such comparison,

not among the men of earth; no

not among the stars flying in the night sky;

not so, not one.


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My Elida, My Mama

A Loving Love

Not the hearth that hearts heat for wintry nights,

nights when ghosts steals my sleep,

when sky's skin is removed from

and cold skeletons pour on me.

No, not this on earth

is like your warming hands on heart

that carries me into sweet oblivion,

places my head on the pillow

where ants have wings and sands are beautiful clouds,

where your loving love hurries to eternity

and in ten folds cycle to and fro.


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My Elida, My Mama

A Moment

A moment with you is the claps of ephemeron –

many of them,

uncountable as grains depthing oceans –

who cease into eternal holds unfolding,

into eternity's chambers of awe.

A moment with you is heaven,

sweet tastes and delight lighting life,

bluey skies of arraying sparkles, littly stars and awe still that steals my sight

away from this earth into lands of shadows,

in your hands of cuddles.

A moment with you is rapture

into glories greater golds than,

a moment, Mama.


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My Elida, My Mama

A Petal

with a vein only, and a lymph of blood

and a flow of love

and a pigment of rain in bows of rays

and a scent of colours of hibiscusal rose,

and the jacarandiac fragrance scenting the nose

and the skin of sun's shine

you are, o love, you are.

with a heart only

and pristinity of the eternal sacredness,

and the blood of white moon,

blood that tastes like honey

and garment of skin that clothes secrets of bones

and greyness that nourishes wisdom's wanting


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My Elida, My Mama

you are, o love, the petal.


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My Elida, My Mama

Among the Forests

Among the tal ― l forests at night

they, tall as gaints of the ancients,

with heads of canopies raised so high

my eyes run a thousand miles to behold

― ends of whom touch the night sky

I look and deeply wonder thus:

What find you in my life

that you come as swift wind,

― and unbreakable by trees

― fir, oak and pine are

and lift me off the ground

to the summit of the branches,

who once stared at and bullied me;

as path for the inevitable sitting on leaves

by fairy hands beyond the flying mats

and fulfilling of dreams that once were sunk?


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My Elida, My Mama

I have a tree amongst them,

those who reel on a pivot

in the skinly talking drum of the wind.

The same tree whose roots grave into you,

― whose water and salt from your breast falls

― yea, milk for the sole of my soul

whose bark on your back talls

― whose pillar you have much been

― yea, pillar that it should be you are

is now head of all trees in the forests.Where is obeche? Has melodies of waves mahogany?

Is it not my leafy hands that clap to your winds

songs of love beyond the comprehension of the thrush?


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My Elida, My Mama

Breaths of Love

Into my nostrils, Mother,

great image of affection,

the flesh to whom I cling boldly,

and selflessly and deeply,

into my nostrils spare some breaths.

Even if I am most unworthy of them

and cannot be fit for the freshest air of you,

to smell the sweet scent of your garment, my gracious queen,

spare me still some breaths, some of yours.

For the flab that I carry

belongs to you, mother;

and the earth that I wear

is dust from your sweet dust:

spare me some sweet breaths.

That my joy may reach heights

the eagle has not ever reached,


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My Elida, My Mama

where stars are still peeking –

whose hands have there touched not,

nirvana of nirvanas- spare breaths of love.


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My Elida, My Mama

By the Words of the Books

By the words of the pages

who turn to and fro

in signs signified:

the water that flows in veins

and blood not feigns;

the beating of the heart

and the treat tender earth;

the joy of life and the essence, living:

is a woman of glory;

and she,

she is.


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My Elida, My Mama

Crescent

Touching the lips of the heavens

like rainbow's long fingers,

but heavens of my innermost

is your carved smile.

It is crescent

that I behold

in this gentleness of night

within my heart's firmament,

when under the gripping oak

I supine my body

and forth finds my sight

the sweetness you give me.

Your smile touches my breath

in cresently sweetness

and makes my sad vapourise

and my mind smiles rainbowly, too.


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My Elida, My Mama

From a Distance

From the distance of the soil to the sky,

we are much apart and sparse do meet.

Yet, not a closeness exists

between the gilling fin and water

as there is between our souls.

Thoughts alike; dreams alike;

one voice in four lips;

twenty fingers of one arm; a blood in two hearts;

breathlessness of the second

in the same gasping breaths,

within the same loving arms,

between the same swiftness of time –

yet, a distance so long, it collapses in love.

There is truly the sun

and the moon that queens my awe;

the stars do take my wonder,

do steal when I fall faintfully.


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My Elida, My Mama

Yet, above these all –

though of little distance away they are

when your distance away is in a bit compared –

you take my awe of awes,

my wonder of wonders,

my love and all

and, from a distance ceased,

my every heartbeat.


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My Elida, My Mama

In the Absence

In the absence of head,

I live on:

I see still, know great flavours of salt,

hear tunes of the harp, tunes of heavenly gaiety.

Yes, I live on, in you, Mother.

In the absence of heart,

I live on:

I love still, think deep wisdoms of sage, feel music of the soul, songs of angelic cosmos.

Yes, I live on, in you, Mother.

In the absence of you,

I cease:

even if my ears catches the gossips of the dead,

even though my eyes sees tiptoeing of all ghosts,

I am steel as one of their kin, lifeless and hapless.


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My Elida, My Mama

Jewel of Jewels

Is every mother, and you to me.

The anchor of my soul in the tempest,

yes, balance to my staggering and deladdering

and passion to my dreams of love and joy,

you are, have always been.

Is every mother, and you to me.

The ancient of stones in the deepest of Pacific,

o, in the most unshallow of Atlantic, the, in the calmest rumbles of the India,

you are, have always been.

There is truly a jewel with which the man

takes the woman into his deepest bosom,

and the jewel you are takes me,

into the depths of motherliness.

O jewel of jewels, my priceless gold.


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My Elida, My Mama

More Letters

shall I by the wings of flying winds

send to your reading sight –

all messages of words,

all words of letters.

Just listen to the pulses of winds,

of winds from waves of the seas,

whose water I have drowned writing

on barks of trees dancing to same winds.

The words are there, mother:

You are star, and galaxy in you is;

You are cause of lips agape,

of hearts beating blindly,

of tongues tasting solely sweetness,

hands writing loveliness always,

mouths singing celestial songs,

and windy messages bringing more letters.


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My Elida, My Mama

Mum

That you are, who milks my soul –

though grace has not you milk my lips –

that you are and more the hand of my fillings,

of my mind's filled bowels

is my eterne awe.

That you ever run to comb my hair

and surrender for my life your last air

is a puzzle I comprehend not.That you nurture my sadness to wealths

wealths of happiness like ocean's.

That you give magics of lights

in my bland night sky

and send my sweet delight here

from the wilderness it was devoured

gives me speechlessness to say

that you're my queen,

the crown of the first son,


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My Elida, My Mama

and gladness of my heart

and the priceless worth

to always call as done, Mum.


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My Elida, My Mama

My Euphoria

All times does my heart ponder

and cease not to wonder

this truth, this very one:

euphor is you, o mother.

You are the cloth of my flesh

that tickles out my chills:

for the same that I giggle

relieves my sourly shaking skin.

You are the grass of my pasture

that greens always, always greens.

It is daylight's awe for me

the fruits of your night's labour.

When eclipses deprive world of day,

I shall not a fear have, not one.

For in you is a lamp of gladness,

a sweet love to light my paths.


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My Elida, My Mama

On a Night

Walking a strange path on a night

when none is by my side, not one,

I saw vastness of confusions –

that labyrinth has no plainness

as stone has no smoothness –

you fairy my doom to ecstasy

and speak forth a prime cause

to hold your hands and fly away

from this vast blur.

On a night they forecast moonlessness

and fears of darkness darkens my soul

and songs of dirge my heavy thuds are

in this fearful walkway of cloudy damnness,

you fairy my doom to ecstasy

and speak forth a prime cause

to hold your hands and fly away

from this vast blur.


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My Elida, My Mama

The Books Tell

The books tell of a mother

who gives her life

for the dreams of her son;

tales and myths

that have a living legend,

her whose hands butter me,

whose love captures my soul

away from drowsiness of life,

whose pearls she sells to feed me,the reality of all fantasies,

the light for my path,

burning candle in the midnight.

The books tell of her love,

unconditional, pristine,

archangelic, godful.

The descriptions of vivid rooting

of the trees of the forests of the Earth

of love of breathlessness,

all written in gold ink:


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My Elida, My Mama

the writings tell of her love,

of her existence and her being,

she who by the name I call –

sweet name sweeter than honey in the mouth –

is Mother, my mama in joy, in sorrow,

Elida.


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My Elida, My Mama

The Morning

The morning has come:

the crow rises faster

than the pace of the shining sun;

the morning star smiles

side by side sunny rays,

o gracious Venus, how orangeous!

The wind of the sea sweeps the night away,

and air of ripeness for sleep breathes out.

In the course of all these,the morning clouds gather

and a thunder burped,

lightning running to ends of the earth.

Bands of colours, beams of wonders,

the richness roars loud, rainbow's richness.

In the course of all these,

the sun still shines;

the moon still glistens;

the stars still wink seductively –

but pristine is this love for them –

the clouds still chain.


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My Elida, My Mama

In the course of all these,

your face is painted by heavenly hazes;

your skin is the rainbow's complexion;

your heartbeat thunders and roars proudly

for your morning rain is about to reign,

and a morning kiss from to a son.


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My Elida, My Mama

The Rain

The rain brought a message,

each thousandth of a drop of each thousand of thousands.

Shall I not read it into your hears?

Her love is a seed,

one planted in the richest desert

and grows and makes desert tropic

and gives life to his dry heart, lively humid.

Her love is a tree,

one rooted in volcano's icy lava

and leaves and fruits volcano's magma

and gives life to his hot heart, lively coolness.

I played in this awe, in this code,

in this word of the rhythm of the rain.

Now tell I you the rain said,

You love me so, as do I.


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My Elida, My Mama

What Have You Done

What

have you

to my heart

done?

When I was away in the cosmopolis,

with the dilution of memories

by the machine clanging, away

all that I have known of the hamlet and our love, mama,

your love has never

wane in a breath,

not once seized, not once dying.

What

have you

to my heart —

endrawing to you —

done?


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My Elida, My Mama

Of a Smiling Heart

The face of beauty

and heart large, mama,

the words of sweetness

and upcurves of your lips:

all enthrall my mind.

The end of these:

I smile in my heart,

a beautiful smile.


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My Elida, My Mama

Morning's Chorus

By twitters of the sparrow,

Morning has come,

gale and gay;

morning has come

with strengths of a woman,

of a woman of soft,

of the pristine, by character of goodly acts

on the stage of a beautiful heart.

Morning has come

in choruses high

of pitchface white

and melokiss wide.

Morning has come

in mama's tap

to spring to day


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My Elida, My Mama

the firstson's night.


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My Elida, My Mama

Beyond the Cup

Beyond the cup of desires

your love overflowing pours.

Beyond the jar of ointment

your care overrunning pours.

The rising of my breath

and passion of my drumming heart,

you are the wonder of life

and, in a breath, breeze.

You are the ray of the sun,

the morning calling to my hale,

the sky lusting lustre of hearty day,

and thundering love in toil's storm.


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My Elida, My Mama

A Milk Unforgotten

that I got from your heart

and the constant beat of it,

that has the value for growth

and of knowledge and comfort,

that is the beauty of my childhood

and the sweet remembering when holding

is the milk

from you given, Mama.


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My Elida, My Mama

The Vamper

My soul was once damaged,

reeking into night's loud rose fragrances

with foulness so strong I left it

caged there in a bottle beside a creek.

I left it and wandered into fogginess of dawns.

You sought my night

and brought my sole

and repaired my mind,unbottled my joy;

you didfound my dawn

and removed my fog

and returned my soul,

you vamped all my sores.


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My Elida, My Mama

Within My Heart

An image of you that does not fade:

same white face that whitens my paleness,

same gold hair that goldens my colourless,

same soft skin that softens my hardness,

same ma ma that mothers my childness.

Within my heart still flowsthe milk of your rich breasts

that feed me daily, fills me

with great goals and greatness;

within the same still flows

your blood of unalloyed passion,

that brings me delights infinitely,

o sweet blood that enlifens me.


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My Elida, My Mama

Within Walls of Heart

We have a peaceful ride

all in our gracious heart,

where wintry snows fall

in haste of disappearing warmth

and volcanic balls roll

in swift unappearance of cold

and both harshness loses gression

in the presence of beating oneness.

Within walls of heart, we are just one, Mum,

with the incessant love

that wins over every brievity of time

and tramples the ecstasy of death on grave.

There we are,

where we are songs of love

and echoes within walls,

eternal echoes of loveliness.


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My Elida, My Mama


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My Elida, My Mama

Dear Reader, I cannot appreciate you enough for reading this

beautiful book. Well, such a strong love exists between the

mother and the son―

in fact, among one another in the family. That is one such joy in being a part of existence.

Thanks once again.

You can as well get four other poetry books that are written

by me. They are:

Love on the Pine

Love and Lovers Vol. 1

The Grey Hair and the

Gaberdine

Dark Romance Volume I


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My Elida, My Mama

My Elida, My Mama

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