GIDEON BORE Poems
Read it on the shoulders high,
Like a crown-bird’s stiff neck,
Stands arrogant head, raised,
That suspends a blazing complexion;
And remotely arrogant lips,
So sharp cutting tongue,
Pause undisturbed on the palate;
And an egoistic inspiration,
Dare to set ablaze,
For him to rise and blaze;
In an intimidating majesty.
Pride, I dare you pride,
Could you live to see the sun-
If humble and meek fell
On an unwakeful slumber.
What Gift Fit?
I have no wit, no clue, no thought;
My heart within me beat a tide,
Of indebtedness each time
Your heart is bared and self prod,
Thereof you spill your corn to me.
I feel the much your heart wills,
I see the far you seek to stretch;
Alas, my heart this selfsame virtue;
I seek a price worth it to bid,