A Painting Grows On Your Wall Poem by Romeo D. Matshaba

Salvaged my soul from rattles, and burning candle in the sky,
How we then grew tall in now fallen land,
Remember, when we’d sit and recite never-ending dreams,
Never-ending things?
Chase bows and bees, crows and trees
But now a painting grows on your wall,
With eyes of leaves and skin o’ tender smooth,
Directly she stares at you… but without direct,
She gaze at me.
The center room, your hearted room…
Is where you’ll stumble upon her roots
A thousand pieces of splendor entwined in one,
In this painting that grows on your wall.
Remember the war in Kraw where man sank as ship?
How back to back we stood, and tall we stood,
How we then read in book, the lives we took.
Now a painting grows on you wall
A bloom grows in your painting…
But why does painting grow on your wall?
Is my wall not fair, or is it like me too bare?
Yes, her apples glare faithfully green at thee,
But few small steps away from bloom; apples glare at me,
Lustily red at me.
Still her beauty grows on your wall, how
When owl awake or sun asleep;
Beauty utters my name and forgets your days
But when moon asleep and light awake,
Beauty knows your name and disdains my night,
What other can I do? But spill your red to
Dull brown earth, to paint a beauty on my wall