A Wedding Gift Poem by Fumban Innot Phiri

A Wedding Gift



Right in front of pastor's Puppet
Right there pastor hold it there…
And please pastor don't bless this wedding
I am here to confess all my suffering.
This man sweet flattery, he loves me but me alone
He was motherly, joy and my friend because we were one
Ay me, I must elude the truth,
Michael you plucked from that tender youth
Then you become my first day thought
You gave the melody of desire.
Now you abandoned me in that lovely moment
And makes my heart sunder.
For these lest days am still in point of wonder.

Now you are getting married?
No pastor, don't bless this wedding.
I am here to give him this precious gift
Now he must remember this ring
From that night you give a lift
With no offence you block my virginity
I trusted you with my heart and gave all my pride of deginity.
From that night you disappeared in nowhere and reappeared
Right Here at pastor's altar after 9 months
The 9 months I went through the Gologotha labour
To have this baby without sweet voice from his father's mouth.
Pastor I am here to give him this gift, his baby.
You may now bless the wedding.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: spoken word
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Fumban Innot Phiri

Fumban Innot Phiri

Chiradzulu, Malawi
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