When The Maid Was Escorted Home.

Every raging storm
Has its ebb time
The guest room
Yawned for visitors
The clanging of utensils
In the kitchen, there was serenity

The maid
Who threw spanners
At how the house works was gone
All shouting and nagging
Was gone except reminiscences
Of the maid's ordeals
In the hands of the mistress
Who thought the maid
Was her mate.
On the day
The maid was escorted home
Peace, torrential as rain
Came to reign
In the house.

by Tony Adah

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