A ROSE NOT SEEN
When in bloom you blossom,
And your subtle scent wafts into the night;
You hide your colours in the bosom
Of the ashen night; shy of moon light.
When some mornings you open
Your petals in bashful embrace of the smiling sun,
You protest the dusty drops of dew that dampen
Your foliage; from it still you run.
You fold like touch-me-not
When warm hands dare to hold you, or
When at mid of day it blazes hot
As the sun peeps through the sky’s open door.
You are she, who hides in scattered shadows;
A rose that loves the shades of dark meadows.
Black is the sadness of loss or pain
Or the hole not filled with happy things.
White is the sprinkle of joy,
No matter how little they come.
Our lives are layered pieces –
Tattered fabrics of contrasting
Colours in waft and weft-ward swim.
We are strips of colour
Walking slowly to our ends.
A SCREAM IN A DREAM
We may scream off our palate roof
And cause the chords to sprain.
Our lungs may shudder from the pain
Of trying to get the words through ears sound- proof.
We are a single solitary droplet
In the vast ocean of noises-
Or in a dream where voices
Carry nowhere farther than dream’s roomlet.
We may strain our last breath to the word,
But truth is, we may never truly be heard.
Poems (c) Emuobome Jemikalajah