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City of Banjul
Saturday, September 19, 2020

The Reawakening of SHE

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The clouds moved 

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 Trembled under nervous agitation 

 She whispered to him:


 ‘Member those heydays

 In the evanescent delicacy

 When I would stare in your eyes of amaze

 Clear as the stream

 And I would call you to the House 

 And my voice a harangue turned

 A vast distant whispering swish

 Along broad boulevards of you the Lost Lovelorn 



 Behind the veils

 Streams of translucent colours

 Like the most fragile fabric

 And at the bottom edge 

 A profound and fiery crimson

 Like the fires of Hades

 You no longer longed for


 The tears that splintered

 The light

 The sins that shimmered even further 

 Into prismatic rainbows


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