In Remembrance Of Rebecca Poem by David Olusanya

Another month of remembrance;
a damned decade of endurance.
A ten year mire of waiting;
pathetic moments of hating.

'Tis the remembrance of Rebecca,
the sole reason I became a baker.
The first lady of my life-
my childhood wedded wife.

This is a sweet expression of sadness,
profound admittance to loneliness.
A painful gesture of dismay;
obstinate reflections as they may.

I miss the scent of her smile
fresh as the clime of the Nile.
I miss the chorus of her laughter
that swallows the dirge of disaster.

I miss the warmth of her skin-
the plump body of a teen.
I miss the taste of her lips-
prelude to a sexual eclipse.

I miss watching her dance
that lures me into a trance.
I miss the voodoo of her eyes
like a seven-sided dice.

I miss her form, I miss her face,
the way we basked at every place.
I miss our games of hide and seek,
like a century lies within a week.

But yet she left me like childhood,
leaving me in a precarious mood.
She left me bare in the cold,
with only her memories to hold.

She left me for my ally,
without a firm alibi.
She left me with our baby-
a German Shepherd puppy.

Today, I'm a poetic baker
courtesy of my ex-wife, Rebecca.
And I shall never cease to bake,
to heal this painful heart-ache.

David O. Olusanya