Your smile, delicate
rumor of peace.
Deafening revolutions nestle in the
cleavage of
your breasts
Beggar-Kings and red-ringed Priests
seek glory at the meeting
of your thighs
A grasp of Lions, A lap of lambs.
Your tears, jeweled
strewn a diadem
caused Pharaohs to ride
deep in the bosom of hte
Nile. Southern spas lash fast
their doors upon the night when
winds of death blow down your name
A bride of hurricanes,
A swarm of summer wind.
Your laughter, pealing tall
above the bells of ruined cathedrals.
Children reach between your teeth
for charts to live their lives.
A stomp of feet, A bevy of swift hands.

  • 0
  • 2
S'identifier Commentaires...
plus de 5 ans

nice poem. Second stanza, "the" is spelled wrong though.

Préféré par...

Celiwe Dlamini Swarnali Karmakar

Autres oeuvres par Maya Angelou...