Aged coins, older sighs
yesterdays lane I walk not
winsome smile, brisk pace.
Diet not, four two
buying height in shoe stores.
sun kissed, curled Kagarama hair
But inside that
a soul is peaceful in the ebony
once upon a time
incarcerated in agony,
but now twirling to the tune
of life's harmony.
Taking tools out of the storage room
mending cracks and daring to stand bold
for my soul, fire cant scald
and the potter sent me as a finished pot,
not broken clay pieces.
But inside that a soul is peaceful in the ebony once upon a time incarcerated in agony, finsihed pot, not brocken clay parts.. just fine thoughts. very positive. thank you dear poetess. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great piece.....thanks for sharing