My Childhood Memories Poem by Gerald Opio

As I catch up to a night coffee
While sitting on the couch
By eight o'clock in the evening
Momma joins me
Teases me
By asking whether I needed breast milk instead
Bursted out laughing
Promptly asking her why she asked
Then she evokes my memory
By narrating a story of how I used to fight for her breast to suckle, in times when I was famished.
I would rent her blouse amidst the contention while she tried to halt my attempts.
Contemplating that she was not trying to impede me from suckling, but she wanted her breasts to first bring forth adequate milk for me to suckle.
But at such an age of naivety, I didn't fathom what mother was trying to do.
Was only after satiating my famished belly.
Out of love, Momma left me to suckle the little milk there was.
As I kept on suckling, her nipples lulled me to sleep.
She said, 'I slept for quite a while'.
By the time I woke up; mother told me, her breasts had nurtured profuse milk for my consumption.
As I woke up with a hungry tummy, crying vociferously.
Momma came running in panic from the kitchen, thinking I had fallen down. Only to find me lying down on bed with my legs raised.
No sooner had I seen her than I stopped crying.
She lifted me up, this time round she didn't wait for me to wrangle with her for her breast.
But out of her great black breast the milk gushed forth for me, milk as white as snow, and when I suckled at one breast it flowed like a fountain from the other, and she let it flow.
I suckled till I was full to the brim, and didn't want anymore inspite of the fact that her nipples were still dripping with milk.
She smiled and she said to me, earlier on you were impatient fighting and renting my garments apart when my tits had brought forth little milk. Now that it's superflous, you can not consume it all.
She ended her story by an epilogue saying, 'my boy always be patient and never settle for less, for when the right time comes, you will reap in bounty and you won't be able to comprehend the enormous harvest with your bare eyes'.
That was the moral lesson of her storytelling.