"Hey!, eat this bowl,
this is good for your belly ."
Whilst He knows what had left
wouldn't make him full- my altruistic mikado.
You revoke my worry, You fill me merry.
"Speak no more of you quitting"
Your whitish tongue wields me to try
again, and again and again.
Your words, my all-time devotion.

Your holds are humane and thoughtful,
What a beautiful oak You are!
My desirable jazz, My everyday therapy.
Popa, your scoldings and your theories
have lifted me to climb hilly milestones I never
thought of achieving and achieving---
Whilst others yawn under gloomy midnights,
you stand the nights and wall us
from perilous hurt-quakes.
You have been our jackpot, our ATM responses,
when did we ever lack checks?

If we should pay for your sacrifices,
we will stay up till ages become dust---
You and Joy are inseparable---
everything we hold, you gave us all.
Popa, Moma crowns each tick for having you
Your forthright affection sweetens us.
You fuel our brightness
your pious jokes wipe off our stress,
Popa, if we pronounce you zero,
Then we are thankless---
You moved us to light,
and you will always be our might, Popa.

© Kwabena Churchill-MOMC