Poetry Bulawayo

I shall crown your waist with a bouquet Of fragrant blossoms I shall plead with the kind sky Just to drop one Silver Star From its shimmering bosom That I shall press upon your navel I shall ask the sucked out sickle in the night sky To lend its softest shine To the warmth that courses through your blood That your skin can drip milk And be textured as the finest silk I shall plead with the wind to be merry And waft freshly and briskly past your dale That I shall fill with birds Of the sweetest song and finest plumage I shall ask the setting sun To turn down its fierce wick And become a soft crimson Above the wrought boughs of ancient trees That you may look up to behold this vision And Oh, I see your angelic face turned my way

Image: http://worldswithwords.wordpress.com/2012/09/23/adding-value-at-will-and-using-theory/ I have glimpsed her in still moments Against the glint of broken bottle-necks Without justice delivered I have seen her body shiver With my face pressed into her shoulders My back is turned against Truth damned up; threatening an out come Is it a right one? Is it a right one? Trembling I turn around facing truth’s trafficked sounds Words speed and a buzz is roused As I stand, my silence is loud.