Treasure Island

Sylvia Chidi

(Germany)

If he speaketh


If he speaketh
the words of wisdom
Her young tender eyes
may be inclined to believe
the promise once forgotten

If he speaketh
with his ancient tongue
behold our master will be wrong
The rustling leaves of autumn
can only fly where there is a breeze

If he speaketh
with his eyes
how dare he, dare lie
promises have become
broken ties

If he speaketh with his pen
I write back
tell him where he belongs

If he speaketh
with his hands
I will let him understand
the air can only stand still
were there is no gravity

Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi

Submitted: Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Edited: Wednesday, October 26, 2005
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