Abiodun Floral
@abiodunfloral
1 year ago
MY MOTHERS ART
Mmmm... I could smell my mothers cooking from far away,
Even in my dreams, I could not help but twist my tongue,
And putting my books away,
Ready to feed my stomach and taste with my tongue.
I remember my mother's cooking pot,
Dazzling around as she makes the Amala,
The sounds coming from the pestle "poka poka",
I could never miss the delicacy and the spot.
My father will never miss his wife's Egusi,
As he swallows his Amala with the soup.
Giving a satisfactory expression as he cops the soup,
Sharing everything but the Egusi.
The Aroma that fills the house gives us the best feeling,
Never missing the right spot as it goes down,
To the stomach, and they let out the satisfactory sounds,
The Combination is never wrong.
My mother's Egusi will forever be treasured,
Cooked with vegetables and spices,
Dancing with the palm oil and locus beans,
A fragrant embrace, mixed emotions.
My Mother's Amala, so soft and tender,
With my fingers caressing the wrap.
I wondered if I could swallow or keep them safe,
Much more I couldn't get more of it.
Her Amala, golden and so divine,
It's a meal that brings us all in glee.
Topped with stew or simple ghee,
With every bite, a taste of her grace.
I remember our family gathering,
While my mother displayed her culinary skills.
In the kitchen, we perceived the aroma and it rings,
In my mind, I whisper "My mother is cooking".
She would call out our names after another,
With a smile on her face, and warm love,
She would ask "Is it okay" with a gentle voice,
A nonrival love, and sweetness like a Dove.
Here's to my Mother's Amala and Egusi.
Tender and prepared with a culinary Art.
A taste that makes everything feel right,
In her warm embrace and memories.
#poetry #FlavoursOfHome #Nircle #poetry
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