Acquah
Acquah
A nd the sun rises
in her eyes
C ozy. Piercing my
stagnant pulse
Q ueen of the sky;
thawing my deserted
isle
U nfolding sore
ripples; folding my
grey cloud
A nd showing beneath
—me
H eavens! How deep
am I?
For Acquah, The
first Magi.
Copyright © Chikwado Nwattah | Year Posted 2014
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