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Romance of my Youth

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I was only 7 years old, living with my grandmother when my neighbor's youngest daughter spoke to me first. This story is hilarious, amazing and then sad, I wish I could have had the chance to meet her for our third decade...





























young as I am
radiating naivete due to my age
I know I am a boy
and that she is a girl

I remember I wanted us to be friends
and even closer than that
I do not know what drives me to this
only that it is what I want

in a show of affection I push her
-and she pushes back, stained with dirt
and grandma breaks us up
and it was then I got the definition

grandma asks me to bathe
get ready for the marriage, she says
we will take care of the bride-price later
after the girl and I marry

I dash to the bathroom and bathe
I am excited, do I really know why I am this elated?
and I look at the starry eyed girl
innocently unaware of the budding romance

ten years later and I am a young man
it would be as long since I had seen her last
I go looking for her
the old surroundings flooding memories of childhood past

she opens the door, this pretty thing
a woman, and as amazing as I remembered her
quite ignorant of who I am, I reveal myself to her at last
then she remembers me, her awe more than evident as she stares at me

in half-disbelief and pours me tea,
her eyes never off me
 dusk comes upon us and I have to leave
having seen her, I am satisfied
and have to go home

yet another ten years pass, and I dream that she has come to me
clothed in white, radiant as the angels
and she bids me goodbye as she turns to light
may God keep her-the innocent romance of my youth


Image by Peter Griffin

http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/browse-author.php?a=296
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Comments

Unknown said…
you wish
i am happy you met her when you were 15
i had something similar when i was 7 or so
i wonder if it was a dream...
March 8, 2010 at 7:49 AM
Antony Kamau said…
We knew each other for another couple of years, though on and and off. If I remember correctly, at nine I went to live with my mother so we only saw each other during holidays. Sometimes at age 10 my grandmother retired she moved and I never saw her again till I was 18, that was our second time.

It does seem like a dream sometimes, maybe because its so pure, innocent and beautiful.

Thanks for your comment Tish.
March 14, 2010 at 7:29 AM
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