My father
Was repairing his bunch of arms
His chest was full
of wounds and scars
I thought of collecting him
a bouquet
of a wind flowers
but I forgot myself
My father
Was repairing his bunch of arms
His chest was full
of wounds and scars
I thought of collecting him
a bouquet
of a wind flowers
but I forgot myself
jumping and playing under
the rain showers
so the time lost me
and I lost the eternal hours
so when I remembered the wind flowers
the seasons were completely disappeared
and my father stopped repairing his arms
*******
I inserted the wind flower
Under my dad's lion's tower
he was not any more polishing
the flame thrower
Protecting the shining trigger
by his bending finger
Didn't see me !!!
and none of his eyelashes
flickered at me
sleeping like a summit in fever
or like a lost village
in a driven broken clouds
He was a handsome lord
smiling on a wooden board
********
Poetry by Aisha Razem
Read 433 times
Written on 2008-02-16 at 08:49
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Was repairing his bunch of arms
His chest was full
of wounds and scars
I thought of collecting him
a bouquet
of a wind flowers
but I forgot myself
Wind Flower .......By Aisha Razem
My father
Was repairing his bunch of arms
His chest was full
of wounds and scars
I thought of collecting him
a bouquet
of a wind flowers
but I forgot myself
jumping and playing under
the rain showers
so the time lost me
and I lost the eternal hours
so when I remembered the wind flowers
the seasons were completely disappeared
and my father stopped repairing his arms
*******
I inserted the wind flower
Under my dad's lion's tower
he was not any more polishing
the flame thrower
Protecting the shining trigger
by his bending finger
Didn't see me !!!
and none of his eyelashes
flickered at me
sleeping like a summit in fever
or like a lost village
in a driven broken clouds
He was a handsome lord
smiling on a wooden board
********
Poetry by Aisha Razem
Read 433 times
Written on 2008-02-16 at 08:49
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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