Delta Phiri Born: 26/08/44 - Died: 25/06/21


ODE TO MY BELOVED MOTHER!


Conceived and Born into this world during World War 2

and exited into God’s Rest during a Pandemic:

Delta was a shining star perched between two darkest nights.


Growing up during the most difficult time in history:

she remained true to her name by channelling love

through her dazzling smile and ever glowing presence.


Her calmliness: her electrifying poise and soothing demeanour

attracted many friends who saw and found in her

a pillar and a fort to run to in their time of need. 


She loved and welcomed everyone crossing her path

and always knew when to peacefully and silently withdraw

when confronted by haters who misconstrued her noble intentions.


After growing up without a mother from my tender age

I never knew that falling for her Daughter as a young man

could lead me straight into embracing motherly arms. 


O’ for the love she gave to me constantly without reserve

God recreated the world I missed out on in my childhood

By giving me a Mother who loved me like a rock.


There’s no power strong enough to delete her from my heart and soul

her priceless smile, sweet voice and ageless memories will carry me 

through all the storms and help me soar above the pain of missing her.



My Mother has returned to her original form and state of being

she cannot hear nor speak for herself, just like she was as a baby

and these tears I cry today are a testament of her true love.


Neither Death nor Grave has power enough

to decimate this love and strong bond bond we shared

And her face shines through bolder than her gravestone.


I’m glad that  I told her just how much I loved her at every chance.

I need you all to help me please: rock her to sleep one more time

as we lower her body inside her eternal cradle where we all come from.


Copyright © Sydney Pikelela Gutyungwa, 02/07/2021




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The author would really appreciate your constructive comments based on how you understood and interpret each poem. Poems can mean different things to different persons and all views can be correct as long as they conform to the contents thereof. This is the beauty of Poetry.

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