An Evening Of Gold Poem by Felix Bongjoh

An evening of gold

(i)

On the verandah, the breeze in a gentle fondle
Raised its tone higher into a pitched throttle,
An engine's voice rubbing its palms against my chest.
I could never have found such pleasure from a chest
With a treasure of jewelry to hang down a bare chest.

There's something more appealing than gold -
A nagging memory in a persistent twirl not so old.

The breeze blew a dry garden clove close to the open door
And I watched it roll over onto the living room's floor.
My attention was more absorbed by a bird on the moor
Feeding a cute fledgling in smooth gold without a flaw.

As the wind grew even stronger with wings
Sweeping away dry leaves in drifting swings,
I retired from the verandah and plumped into a couch,
But the wind followed me in its creeping crouch.

A crackle took me to a corner of the dry leaf in hiding,
Where I found a tiny earring in gold, a tiding
Not so much of gold, but of a golden heart of love:
How my mother's love was rekindled by a mere clove.

When she hugged my young sister with the earring,
A lost gift with no voice for an audible hearing
That would have left my mother's love unfelt, a glove
My sister wore not only for warmth but to erase a winter
Of indifference that had built up into a long awaited whimper
Of love - that promise of a token that never showed its glitter.

(ii)

As I retired early to bed in my western bedroom
And gazed over the window in my inner room
Of intimacies stinging my heart like bees just unleashed
From a hive by some unprovoked attack, I was appeased

By a round crystal ball on a lake, sitting majestic
In its relaxed mood, exhaling an exceedingly thrilling magic,
Its rays laid out in beams of gold at the bottom of the lake
That would never have been mined by sheer love in any take:

A moon shinning in generous sprays of light
That makes boulder-heavy hearts feel light.

How an evening following a day of brawls
Settles in a treasure greater than gold
When all rags in the mind drifting back in stains old
Find new dreams, the new clothing of a baby's dolls.