No Tears

No tears to cry
No tears to laugh
No tears to love
No tears to hate
No tears to reminisce
No tears from yesterday
No tears for tomorrow
No more tears…


The Ayah’s Children

She cooks for them.
She washes for them.
She takes them to school.
She takes them home from school.
She plays with them.
She reads them bedtime stories.
She laughs with them.
She cries with them.
The Ayah’s Children…

Yet when they call her “Mama”
Their mother castigates them,
And yells at the poor children
“She is not your MAMA!!! She is the house girl, the house maid, the ayah! OK?!”
The children cries silently.
Bitter tears flows down their cheeks,
Tearing at the ayah’s kind heart.
The Ayah’s children…

The mother is hardly ever at home.
The mother is forever travelling.
The mother is always working.
The mother is constantly busy.
The mother is just but a noun.
Deep down,
The children know only too well,
That they are the Ayah’s children.
She is the only MAMA they know,
Who is always around whenever they need her…

© Ayoub Mzee Mzima 2013

Three Cheers And A Tear

A tear claps at sad magnolias,

Daffodils, primroses and lilacs in this garden,

Hurling a tender hurt heart,

To a sure precipitation of anguish.

A tear cleaves on a tempered desire,

That was stilled in antiquity,

That belonged to a vanguard of stolen dreams,

Obscuring a certain sunshine.

A tear spurs an ornate wish,

Quipping a too willing want.

A tear jibes,

The vestiges of the night,

While its memories lingers on.

A debris.


Three cheers,

Refuse to wane,

But instead muster true strength,

Blustering at melancholic wiles.

Three cheers,

Breezes a sweet wisp of happiness to these nostrils.

Three cheers,

Extricates familiar tenderness from a dreary existence.

An affectionate kiss from the stars,

Hints at a poised paradise,

That never recedes nor cedes.

Three cheers bring a happy tear on her face.

© Copyright 2012 Ayoub Mzee