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In The Deserts Of Exile

Rating: 5.0

Spring after spring,
In the deserts of exile,
What are we doing with our love,
When our eyes are full of frost and dust?

Our Palestine, green land of ours;
Its flowers as if embroidered of women's gowns;
March adorns its hills
With the jewel-like peony and narcissus;
April bursts open in its plains

With flowers and bride-like blossoms;
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Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: suffering
Michael Walkerjohn 21 October 2014

Aloha Jabra Ibrahim Jabra... Of peace on earth and goodwill among men... If not for the sadness of the situation, this would be the pinnacle of my first memory of Palestine... your post exhibits a solemn expressive thought to our readership and to the world... the natures of men, determined by the size and destructive power of the weapons of death they wield... a sin that will soon be rectified... where there is unjustified conflict, there are always those beings watching... and communicating the truth of these matters to more high authorities... you may count on this as fact... Only death laughed when it saw Among the entrails of beasts The ribs of men coming soon to every abode on earth... Thank you for profound and heartfelt message to all of US... all of the best from this life, to you, and all of your relations... Michaelw1two

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