My mama is an angel
My mama is an angel
There can’t be another angel
In this life’s hurdle
Cos she loves, loves and loves me
Out of her busy schedule
To set me free
She’ll sit on the tip of a huge needle


When I cry she cuddles
She understands when I mumble
In my mistake she fumbles
To get me out of trouble
In my sickness, she troubles
To get me out of hot bubbles
She gets all my puzzles
And solves all my riddles
That’s why
  Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014

The picture you paint

Forces me to mentally repaint

I deem it quaint

But it makes me enjoy the scenery you paint

And thank my stars for having you and I acquaint

I have no complaint

There’s no way my name by you will have a bad taint

I can never faint

Neither must I put in place any constraint

Even a world like a giant hand cannot me constraint

They can try to deceive me like a footballer trying a feint

But my mind is already made, you are my worldly saint.

    Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014

Oh poor poor sky

Did anything go awry?

Please tell I

Without making up a lie



Sky oh poor sky

Why? Do you feel shy?

You lie open and cry

And can’t tell me why?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014

It is a perfect creation

A machine to sieve and produce

One to give pleasure and satisfaction

Not an imperfection calling to be perfected



It is a machine of perfection

Which cleans itself with every growth

And has the decency to close and open

Under the instruction of a mind on top



There is no need for the knife

There is no need to inflict pain

There is no need to shed blood

And to give infections



Hear the cry of innocence!

Hear the cry of the womb!

Its gates are crushing

Crushing for nothing!

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

He sought to break

What he could not shake in its fury

He sought to beat

What he could not fight at its strongest

He slacked when time slept

In its weakest moment

He forgot to fix the cracks on his happiness,

To ruin the battle of his sorrow,

To beat the taunting teeth of hardship

He watched as champions

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

No matter the level of drought

In the sky

There’s the occasional dewdrop



A little is better than none

None is none

So who wants none

When he can have it all?



Let tongues travel

Across the sea and back

Making me infamously famous

It is a starved plant which hears its stomach rumbling



Casting aspersions will do me no harm

You have to walk in these shoes to feel the heat

I can lie in wait for a river without water

But can’t be thirsty sitting close to a river overflowing

With no thought of the river offering to quench my thirst.

    Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014

The mighty pen
Pulls me into his den
At the count of one to ten
He makes me the woman among men


He asks me to on him depend
So he can the words contend
He knows I love to myself fend
He helps me to a lovely bend
      Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2013.