I wrote this poem a few years ago when i just started reading Chimamamda's half of a yellow sun. The book engulfed me with it's passion
Soaked with the passion
that bit every part of my mind,
Overwhelmed by the strength
that appeared in every description
but betrayed by the inability to feel
the physical construction of my
Every word i read sounded so real
and familiar that i wondered if
i had begun to talk to every
I don't know but some how
i found myself in the midst
of the descriptions in my head
and it seemed as though i was
a part of the story.
I think i really was but the only thing
was that Auntie Mandy did not know
what to make out of my presence
because she did not understand my
character well enough to describe me
The story lingered so perfectly that
even while i slept each night, my
mind took me to a perfect scene of all
it had arranged with each description
in the story.
My mind took me to very real
This imagination was so real
that many times i died to reality
and awakened to vague thoughts
that seem more real than reality.
Little by little,the style with which
Auntie Mandy presented every character
engulfed my personality so perfectly
that i started to live with a pinch of
every character in the story.
Funny enough every character
had something "emulateable"
and from Auntie Mandy,even more
as she dared to make you feel more
than a mere reader.
Still less than half way through
the exciting tale of many parts
of every colour of life, my
heart is least hurried to suck the
last days of the story but is ready to pinch
every page with every bit of passion
it has for the story.
Many times i wonder what this book is doing
to me and how much more of me it will take
before it lets me be.
Though paniced by the thoughts of what
the end of the story will tell, the beauty
of the handwritten tale swallows my
curious spirit up and spits me into
a world of thoughtful imagination.
After i have felt each letter with my
eyes,each phase of the story finds
it's room in my mind's heart.
The emmense intensity of the
captivating power of the story has
drowned me deep in the heart of
I wait to see the full sun.