Mary Krekamoo Poems

Strangers in my heart, they come and go
Each from countries unknown,
Some come bearing gifts, some come lost souls needing restoration..
Travellers in my heart each time i Harbour one i hope he'll make it home..
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I get lost by just looking into your eyes,
A perfect blend of flare and glare
A mixture of innocence and brilliance glow
And am Lost in words to tell a tale
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A mother and daughter set out to farm
In a bag mother carried maize seeds and yams,
The morning breeze was far from warm,
Their patches of clothes worn and torn,
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Is like a chisel meets a sculptor,
Curving a piece of wood into a world to discover
Hand making artifacts for others to admire
Each cut with a polish of hope
...