Six Times

She gorged us with food, until we fell
It gave us time, to confront her strength
Broke free of chains and stifled hopes
It is only six times, that our whistle blew

Christmas comes early, on a rainy day
Hidden in a crown, royal on scratched remains
of forgotten pains, to a stranger that gave up
When it was those six times, our whistle blew

Gifts are suspect when a heart is grieving
Full leather package, pampered in cravings
Lazy comforts, perched on motorbikes
Waited on six times, until our whistle blew

Excuses are confessions, of a guarded heart
Blowing away smoke, from a heavy past
Brings back the travellers, to the receiving arms
For those six times, that our whistle blew

* * *
Shanzu, Mombasa
Mara Sita
Jan 2020