A MISSED MEASURE OF LOVE | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: A MISSED MEASURE OF LOVE | Previous Challenge Entry
By Olawale Ogunsola
01/15/13
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My dream of a love-filled life,
With romantic accompaniments,
Came indeed, as I expected it.
But it lived for only a night,
Yes, only a night!
My joy as a new bride turned sour.
The hope of a blossom marriage was dashed.

My groom was enraged with me,
Because of a fault that was not mine:
I was only a victim of deceit.
He was angry with my father justifiably.
He negotiated for the younger,
My father gave him the elder, me.
This is deceit, deceit, deceit!

It was then that it became clear,
I was not the beloved;
Assumed that I was.
And not the sweetheart,
I claimed to be.

My journey to an exile began,
Where I lived for decades:

I vowed to my spouse,
And expressed my love to him;
I promised him my all, all, all my life.
All to no avail!

I offered my offering of tears,
Before a merciful God;
But my tears yielded no positive response
In the direction I had loved.

I ran after Jacob,
But Jacob ran after Rachel.
I offered myself to Jacob,
But Jacob offered himself to Rachel.

I cried after him,
For a spoonful of his love,
But he longed after my younger sister;
With a stream of it.

I was readily available for him,
With a river of love in my heart.
He was prepared to thirst
For seven years,
To procure and secure her.

Jacob, oh my Jacob, my only love,
Look at my delicate eyes;
They have love to offer forever!
Take stock, please, take my stock;
Take my physical stock.

Weigh my features
and reconsider
To give me a jug of love.
I may not be as beautiful
In appearance as Rachel,
But inside me
Is the desire of every woman:
To love and be loved.

The flying arrows of my words
Did not bring him back
With any tea-cup of love in his hand.
The birth of my first son,
Could not buy me a drop of his love.
Nor the conception and delivery of
My second son was able to secure it for me.

The birth of three sons,
Could not attach him to me.
Nor the birth of six sons
Knit his heart to mine.

My competition with Rachel
Added insult to the injury.
My rivalry only troubled,
Troubled his heart, the more.

My net did not catch his heart,
Even a pin edge size!
So, I became a detested stranger
To the one I loved;
Until I found solace.

I found solace in the Lord,
Who loved me without measure.
As I chose to praise Him,
I then swam in the river of His love.

He also rewarded me, For my unreserved love
Because He saw I was hated;
By giving me six of the twelve tribes of Israel.
A very good portion,
That no man can give.

He made me to sleep,
In the tomb of the righteous;
And not in a roadside grave,
Like one who stole her father's idols,
And carefully concealed them.

Praise the Lord with me!

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