Still My Bare Feet Walk Sweetly Poem by Noorie Ali

This art is in squares, circles, rectangles and many monstrous shapes
My art is not art it is only colour in the shades of all colours creating thoughts of wisdom,
I know this art of mine is all words that don’t match and mislead you
These letters they draw a sketch with charisma.
My pious, calm and moony faces.
They droop with frowns and bring out the sour in me
While I put up smiles to the top
While they call down the army to my means and deeds
How they’d steal to see me dropp
Still keep me sane till they grant me sympathy
To their wicked foolish turns
They mock my bones that be clueless and happy
I be patient and keep on the suffer
Till I rise and snipe them sorry
My flowers in my heavens call me
They be in the seams of my small fibers
They be that delicate smell that surrounds me
I say to those my poetry is a ripe mild bud to your taste
For my flowing alphabet is my reality
All I want is serenity in my world where I shed a mere tear
In the well of hope and still my bare feet be walking sweet.