The Bed My Husband Made Poem by Pius Didier

The Bed My Husband Made



TROUBLES OF WAYUA (episode 2)

Even today my back ache,
Especially when i bent to bake,
My husband Mbila, a carpenter,
Made a bed that troubles Wayua,
Since it broke and hurt my back,
He supported it with a stone at the back,
And spread a lion skin at the right.

The bed my husband made,
Has turned my left ribs a cage,
My husband sleeps at the side of the wall,
For he fears i might badly fall,
Everynight we vacates to the floor,
(Afraid they might differentiate the snore) ,
The bed my husband... It cries when it gets dark,

The bed my husband made,
Has a tall pole at the front,
Where my husband mbila hangs his hat,
And a deep linning at the veneer centre,
Where mbila and i meet at wee hours,
It has a hook to hang a water jerican,
To extinguish the fire when his ciger lights the grass.

To be continued...

Wednesday, July 19, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: marriage
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Linet Sabastian 20 July 2017

I love the humor in this poem

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