The silky sound of liquid snow caressing cold concrete
Dreamed me to a drumming rain that fell with Afric beat,
A drumming, dreamy, purring beat like a fat, old curled up cat,
Sleeping under secret shade, purring, black and fat.
The sky was changed, become confused,
Sad for the seething seas,
The sundered lungs of forests used,
The death song of the bees,
The swirling, twisting, wandering winds,
Touched my face with mankind’s crimes,
While sun and moon danced a mourning tune
For the old forgotten climes.
But sweet she smiled like a silken flower
Raised toward the sun-
And sweet she kissed the jasmine bloom,
And watched the children run,
But then the sound of thunder came,
And broke my dreamy state,
And so her sweetly saddened smile,
Dissolved in mists of fate,
But still the leopard silent sits, beneath a pearly moon,
And still the Masai sing their ancient battle hymns,
With rhythms soft and slow,
And still, the Afric mountain sleeps,
Wrapped in gentle snow.
One Voyce of the World 
so sad! LOVE the fourth line “A drumming, dreamy purring beat, like a fat old curled up cat” — fun to read aloud…
love the rhythm and alliteration in this one…
I feel a bit like I’m reading something so personal, private…
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Thank you. Yes, it is a bit personal, a dream state vreated by the sound of snow melting, but then turns into a nightmare of what is happening and in reaction turns to a vision of a woman and a child I knew in Africa and then back to reality but with a hopeful ending. Hope you like the others too. Most people like Walking Home a lot. Others like the harsher Unemployed one.
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Thanks Nancy, word press didn’t alert me to your comment-just saw it today. Just posted a new one.
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