Ima Ryma


Hair Of The Vicuna - Poem by Ima Ryma

I am the vicuna, I be
From South America up high,
Smallest of camel family.
Strangers alarm cuz I'm quite shy.
I have a fleece of golden brown.
The Incas used to treasure it,
Every few years searching me down,
Shearing my wool, then to be knit
For royalty to wear in show,
As reincarnated live gold.
Usually, they'd let me go.
Wool is wool, but I never told.

If something of my wool you get,
It cost a whole bunch, you can bet.


Comments about Hair Of The Vicuna by Ima Ryma

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 7, 2014


[Hata Bildir]