The Optometrist by Amos

Amos | May 11th, 2023 | poetry | No Comments

Poet Bio

Eye Doctor is here
My husband, an optometrist
Specializes not in nose nor ear
But those whose visions twist

Readers read, a but vain act
Their vision is too blurred
Clouded by jealous cataract
Mystified eyes are lured

Some are far sighted
Need the correction lenses
Others are near sighted
With lame sight of all senses

Come to optometrist
For a consultation for eyes
When your eye lenses are rigid like ice
Like a sun he’ll kill the mist

On his nicely packed shelves
frames come in sizes and colour
Blind man’s dead eye’s funeral parlour
Here we fit frames & in mirror see ourselves

Albinos kids come get glasses
And wear’em in your classes
That tiny ant walking on your book page
Shall trudge like elephant out of a cage

Glasses are to correct our vision
Not to ruin our lenses as others say
Only need to poke your pockets to pay
And correct your vision, that’s our mission

Tender eye consults & tired eye also consults
Our optometrist’s doors are always open
Esp’cially for those who still toy with a pen
In your final exams you’ll kill the fattest results

Why invite clouds to gather into your eyes
While your help is standing at your doorstep?
How’d you see your wife when dancing in a step
When bidding her parents’ home goodbyes?

Poet Bio

Amos Tebeila is a published poetry and novel author living in Middelburg in Mpumalanga province. Writing to me is the pulsating of my heart!

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