My Joy In Your Rough Hands (An Enchirion's Story)
Do not keep me
As oysters keep their pearls
Very safe
From the danger
Of the rough winds
Like a child
In a womb
Or wealth in a volt
As it changes my colour
From white to yellow
I fade my lustre
Day by day I lose
My strength
Miss your warmth
The cord bent
Upon the cage
In praying posture
I call for freedom
And your love.
Hold me tight
On your chest
Let me ride
Play with me foul
Tear wear me apart
Treat me as a child treats a toy
In Your rough hands lies my immense joy.
poem by Abdul Wahab
Added by Poetry Lover
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