Brazen skin of Autumn's hue
burnt by time, moistened by dew
laboring hot, singing spirituals sway
raisin head slaves docked at the bay
Planted deep in soil of toil
seedlings sprout as life uncoil
strengthened by tears of Autumn's rain
harvest of grapes plump with pain
Pressed against white washed stone
oozes liquid of life with crimson tone
offering cups of sacrificed foes
the communion wine...blood overflows
more are thrown on fields of thorns
hot sun beat upon them till weary-- worn
My skin is dark like winter's night
Black African--Son of Kings
black american--son of slaves
who with songs of spiritual sway
cry tears of moist dew--day by day
Their beds lie among rotted leaves
nurturing their children of sundry hue
upon this soil of hardship and toil
in the land of Autumn
lies the fallen leaves of
Mother Africa
*Tight Rope*
Dancing on a wire
with no one around
Far from the heavens
not far from the ground
Dancing on a wire
high on the town
Afraid if I stop
I may come tumbling down
*Here Are Your Flowers*
(For Effie Hood)
Why should I wait till I'm mournful with tears
Standing beside you when you can't hear
Letting you know how much I need you
That my life is nothing without you
How sorry I am forever hurting you
And how much I love you
As the saying goes, "give me my flower now
When I can see them and enjoy them."
Now, will I give you your flowers
With my everlasting love
Thank-you's, apologizes and much, much more
Than can ever be expressed in words
Here are your flowers Mom...
I hope you like them.
