Raid Poem by Mahtab Nega
Raid
The violin strings
Turned my fingers red…
Your music was a storm
on a flower bed.
I am
the slave of your seasons -
Are you my spring?
Am I blue and bold?
Are my snows melting?
Touch away my blues
To sweeter greens;
Let your soft summers
Drench my winter scenes.
In my battered soil
Is your flower bed -
For balms and herbs
I you raid.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
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4/18/2024 7:56:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A great poem, like it.