A cold wind through warm colours

In sacred cloth, ancient bells,

Resurrects powerful spells,

History shows our valours,

This has always been our life,

Nature’s expanse is our wife

And we uphold her glory

Through one and a thousand story,

As we tread upon this land

We make ours and yet respect

Our great mother’s helping hand

For prayers are what protect

Old ancestors through ages

And children under the sun,

With great care woven and spun

Through the river that rages,

Under the noble hawk’s eyes

And in the hearts that are ours,

You may laugh at this disguise,

Mock the way we love the stars,

You think you know who we are,

You think that we live so far,

But before pointing at holes

That you view as dug too deep

Should you not question your souls?

For the path is long and steep

For he who is deaf and blind

From never looking behind…


Poem prompt given in class: write a poem from a portrait picture and give it strong voice.

Edit: 16/10/2017 – Changed ‘protect’ to ‘respect’ (what it should have been) in the tenth verse, hadn’t noticed that mistake yesterday.

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