A tender song I sing
To potent hope I cling
As I flee from ferments of fling and bouquets of bling
Floating flavours of faith
Catching my breath
Veering away from stealth
Promoting plumes of penance
Devoid of vestiges of vengeance
In circumstances of every stance
In the distance I take
With croissant creeds I bake
Making and faking no mistake
As my eyes to blindness close
Akimbo arms my pensive pose
With bliss bouquets of the red rose
I tender on bended knees
For unsung busy bees
As I pay my please fees.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem