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Desolation in Tangiers ~rewrite~
Desolation in Tangiers
Golden tresses spindled like sunlit clouds
Drift by me in the marketplace
They ignite memories of a faraway place
In Tangiers where once my rose glistened
With pearls of dew born in desire
She caressed my wrinkled body
With fingers soft as rain
And bathed me in her fountain of youth
With rose petal hands
She washed me in sunlight
And combed the snowy hair
On the roof of my head
In our May December love
My flower would lie on her casket
Yet when I watch the women gather water from the well
I see her face in every woman who dips her pail
Under the blood red moon
Golden tresses spindled like sunlit clouds
Drift by me in the marketplace
They ignite memories of a faraway place
In Tangiers where once my rose glistened
With pearls of dew born in desire
She caressed my wrinkled body
With fingers soft as rain
And bathed me in her fountain of youth
With rose petal hands
She washed me in sunlight
And combed the snowy hair
On the roof of my head
In our May December love
My flower would lie on her casket
Yet when I watch the women gather water from the well
I see her face in every woman who dips her pail
Under the blood red moon
Published 20th Feb 2016
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5th Mar 2016 8:41am
5th Mar 2016 5:24pm
vessa07, I have already come to love your way of seeing my work. We have synchronicity of spirits as poets. I thank you from my heart for appreciating this poem. This poem is very special to me. ;-)
John
John
