#WritcoPoemPrompt42
Write a poem focusing on a single memory, or describe what you might imagine the typical grandmother’s kitchen to be like.

Ah! Back to the memory lane!
Growing up was always like a nightmare,
Truthfully, I didn't want to grow up.
I've always had a person-family,
Growing up literally means I'll be left alone,
That thought alone sounded worse than a tornado.

Well I woke up every morning to the honk of my neighbour's bicycle,
"Sleepy Head!" she would tap my nose and carry me on her back.
Grasping her tightly from the back was the one thing I do well,
Well, I eat well too.
By the wall is the hanging bowl of my sponge and her spiritual soap to ward off evil off my head,
Her belief in spirituality! argh!!!
I always thought she stole me from the spirits.

Enjoying the warm bath water has been my delight,
Every now and then, it'd make me feel someone takes time to care for me.
Her Adi oil softly will dance on my dimples,
She'd be delighted how I look creamy like a fried fish.
"Ah! Ain't you the cutest thing?",
She'd always remark.

Her waistebeads will always tinkle in the dark kitchen when feeding me,
Her hard fingers from packing kernels will make way with chunks of meat into my mouth.
"Go well Aderonke, may the dead spirits of your parents serve you right" she'll say as she waves me down the hill.
© Omega*3