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My Love Is a Palm Tree

My Love Is a Palm-Tree Who’s she? A palm-tree lofty head to which the morning sun first pays homage before it falls on earthly faces; Who’s she? A palm-tree shapely bosom where overnight dew into manna grows; Who’s she? Twain palm-tree open palms grace-fully fanned for a homely hug; Who’s she? A palm-tree whose sweetest freshest sap quenches my sirocco thirst; Who’s she? A palm-tree to whose sight I owe my seeing; A palm-tree to whose parts I owe my all. Tozeur, January 2002

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things