A Poem
By Michael Akinyemi Taiwo
When I wrote her name
upon the strand,
my grandma,
she smiled and said:
It looks like
something you can wear;
on your nose, your ears,
like a golden crown
to adorn your head.
She was calm,
albeit the blue ocean
danced animatedly in her eyes,
and the sunshine gleamed
like gold dusts on her ebony skin.
Long before I could
string words together,
she called me:
The Word Welding Warrior.
Oft, when I’m down,
her words, they flash on my mind
and I’m invigorated. For like
the name one can wear, I have
worn her words. An ornament
to embellish my heart.
