Charcoal Caravan
I drew the charcoal caravan
upon your wrist and on your hand
to slowly travel through your blood
of blind emotions, quell the flood.
Some curry powder dipped in ink
shines mine eyes and all I think.
It's cinnamon wings in the pale mooned sky
brings tears, brings tears to a lover's eyes.
While the flutter of fabric made from silk
pours flowing colors on a breeze of milk,
the coconuts split are filled with muse
and the elephants saunter on, two by twos.
The noise is intolerable, jingling and jangle
rumblings and ramble, slowly they amble
as the man with the gold teeth
lights the caravan candle.
The whole brigade takes on
the silently flammable
with frankincense resin
on the necks of the camels.
The traveling charcoal caravan
I drew upon your wrist and hand
has given you your gypsy blood
of blind emotions, quelled the flood...
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