Title: Grandma's Love in Every Bite


I won't lose my pride and act all desperate,
Like I need you to try and forget her,
'Cause I know you don't feel the same way.
But before you go, was there something I could've said,
To make your heart beat better?

If only I had known the storm you had to weather
So before you go, was there something I could've said?
To make it all stop hurting?
'Cause it kills me to know I was the one who hurt you

"Faith," said my grandma, her hands busy in the kitchen,
"Come closer, let's make dinner, so what were you doing?
Listening to Lewis Capaldi's heartfelt ballad, "Before You Go,"
And writing a poem about a homemade dish made by my grandma and her secret recipe, I hope the poem will be completed someday.

So what's the dish for today? It's Amala, gbegiri and Ewedu,
So grandma shared her wisdom, her secrets unwavering,
A heavenly dance of flavors embraced every step
Forbidding idle chatter while indulging in her love-filled feast.
Then she said, where are your kitchen manners? I never knew that existed. I only know table manners. 😂😂
Grandma, solemn, silent as we savored her creation,

Now, at the university, alongside friends, I walk,
Until Amala, gbegiri and Ewedu, forgotten, caught my eyes.
Graceful, another man's lips tasted those beloved flavors,
My friend, enticed, whispered a desire to try this cherished cuisine.
With budgeted plans, we gathered ingredients and memories,
Eating Amala, gbegiri and Ewedu, with joy and excitement

But even as we indulged, a bittersweet truth echoed softly,
It could never rival the sweetness of grandma's touch.

Lost in nostalgia, I lingered. My friend grew concerned,
"What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes reflecting confusion,
And with a longing sigh, I whispered, "I miss it all,
The taste of Amala, gbegiri and Ewedu
She questioned, perplexed by my sudden sentiment,
"We just ate," she reminded, not grasping my ache.
But deep inside, I knew, only I understood,
I yearned for one more taste, a final reunion of flavors.

I wish I had shown her the poem, the words unspoken,
But as I uttered them aloud, a yearning for grandma surfaced, grandma
"I miss her," my voice whispered, a tender plea.

#Poetry
#FlavoursofHome*

@amarachiokoro

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Amarachi Anastasia Okoro @amarachiokoro

niceeeee poem
1 year ago

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Abiodun Floral @abiodunfloral

Nice
1 year ago

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Croyance Ayoade @croyanceayoade

Thanks
1 year ago

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johnson Ajayi @johnsonajayi479699

This is nice the way th food and the grandma memory are interwoven together makes it so nice. you are a pro
1 year ago

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johnson Ajayi @johnsonajayi479699

Am in love
1 year ago

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