She was born in a mudded hut
One that was grass thatched
Next to the smoky kitchen where
Countless chicken hatched.
Her feet would learn to run
Without ever knowing the purpose of shoes
Yet that never really limited the fun
She had while growing up.
Her face wore a wide beautiful smile
Like the moon did most of her nights
Until her red moon disappeared for a while
After she gave in to a hormonal fight.
She lay on her back writhing
Nine long months later
Wondering if she'd survive birthing
Whatever was coming out of her crater.
Buckets of laboured sweat after
A scream would float in the expectant air
To met by the midwife's laughter
And an unsolicited welcome to mothering.
Raise this unplanned child
She brought forth she must
Regardless of the boy man responsible
Pulling a disappearance card.
She worked on the open fields
Toiled in some unaccomodating spaces
Waited for her sweat yields
Withstanding some judgemental faces.
Her young became of age
And to school it was
As she knew illiteracy was a cage
That imprisoned greatness causes.
How would she then leave that young?
Her thirty three was shy two days
Her death unpredictably sprung
To prune her youth away.
If only she stayed a while longer
Held on even as blood dried up in her veins
Longer for the adult me to honour
The mechanisms of her loving hugs.
This is my first poetry challenge to accept and find myself trying to seduce words into a solid piece. It is based on the memories I have of my favourite girl and it is always a challenge to pen stuff about her but she's my legend.
I am not sure if whatever I came up with is what 
BQ.