Little Old Lady
There was a little lady
She was a wee bit shady
She liked to spend her penny’s
On unnessary thingy’s
There was this little lady
She may have seemed crazy
Oh how she squandered
Used people who wondered
There was this little lady
Don’t mistake her for hazy
She knew her game well
To prey on people and tell
There was this little lady
Age mattered not to her lazy
Lazy to make of her own
Rather she’d steal, seek sympathy and moan
There was this little lady
Be careful, watch out for her, daily
She is master at manipulation
She is queen of masquerading
Salwa Samra © 2021
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The Cedar Tree
In my youth I rested under the arms of your branches
Beneath the scent of your perfume none matches
Your aromatic bouquet comforted me from ashes
Though I heard the sounds of wailing unanswered
The echoes of bombs firing furiously
The children gathered in silence, inferiorly
You stood in stature, covering me mysteriously
Ancient civilizations imported you materially
Carving ships, houses and palaces defined
Circumcision and leprosy applied you enshrined
Foreign leaders tendered you in gesture consigned
Centered of our, honoured proudly assigned
Revered on our Coat of Arms gleaming
Virgins cleave to your forestry dreaming
Accolades in the Bible, paying homage, esteeming
Pleasure you create in hearts expecting
Arz el-Rab you are decreed to be
Shading our country with your topography
Fleets of the sea you accompanied granderously
Splendour of greenery on high grounds jubilee
Finery of branches and forest shadows guaranteed
Skins of timber delicately fashioned agreeably
Green your conifer reaching out favourably
In abundant grandeur there stands the Cedar Tree.
Salwa Samra © 2016
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
Author - Poet - Writer
The Bus
She caught the bus to the train station. She had a desire. The desire she was fighting while on the bus.
Destination: Train station.
Objective: Suicide.
It’s happened before, her friend died only last week. Life support switched off. She hung herself.
She was on the bus. Myself and a lady from England, a precious lady were both talking to her. So concerned. Myself in a different State, this other lady in a different country, both trying to stop death.
She arrived at the train station. She showed evidence of her being there through a photo. This is what many people, families and individuals deal with.
This is what myself and a lady from England dealt with a few nights ago. This is many people’s reality, while many of us snuggle up in our comfortable homes.
Torment. Fighting the urge to die. Fighting the will to live. Dealing with an illness that robs her from living.
This time our encouragement, listening ears, pleading and highlighting how precious and valuable she is caused her to catch another bus. A bus back home.
This time.
I could rest. I could sleep.
This time.
Please take a good look and listen to people. You just don’t know until you know.
Remain to Remember
When water cascades atop the waterfall
When daylight folds its sky to night
When waves of the ocean raise the seas
Will you remember to remember me?
When night's curtains are pulled to daylight
When birds orchestrate their songs to dawn
When mountain reach their final peak
Will you remember to remember me?
When the stars canvas shines its blush
When deceit impersonates truth
When tears scorn the lashes sorrowfully
Will you remember to remember me?
When my hand is cold at your touch
When my heart guards itself from you
When my body settles to reject your decree
Will you remain in remembering me?
Salwa Samra © 2017
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
Middle Man
Have you met the man in the middle?
He's a very upstanding sitting man.
He'll play the flute from drum tunes.
He'll run in walking over lofty dunes.
Have you met the man in the middle?
He triumphs over failing faults.
He dances, still, out of tune.
He frees freedom to doom.
Have you met the man in the middle?
He's lukewarm in his hot temper.
He's dazzling in his frightful state.
He's crazy at ease with hysteria.
Have you met this man?
This man in the middle?
Drinking Black
If you take a drink, I’m sweet to taste
Decide to swallow, I’m juicer in haste
Infusing you with much satisfaction
Suppressing many distractions
I come in disguises, the populace cannot see
Emerging beauty, within I reek, miserably
Reading humanity’s mind simply, I decree
Never fails in summing up their destiny
I appear, as a lamb gentle and meek
A wolf to my prey I seek
I offer delights, many a reward
Mockingly laughing…such foolish accord
Daring I am to the unsuspected
Audacious I roam, undetected
Swiftly stinging to mute the light
Mockingly exposing, delighting in fright
Despicable hearts, I long to snare
Cupping on my darkness, my vile lair
Sweet they taste, inside I turn sour
Absolute…enticing their final hour
Alas, I’m black no exposure to White
Keep captured, hidden from light
I beseech you, hear my shrieking sound
I long to keep them earthly bound
Suddenly, divine power, forging to conceal
White thundered to their earthly appeal
Petitioning many to keep them deceived
White’s supreme not what I perceived
Help me, help me, I’m spiraling downward
Drinking from White's grace – poured
Intoxicated by light, liberated from black’s power
Whimpering around…destined for my last hour
Salwa Samra © 2012
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
Loves Dividing Wall
(Currently, I'm sharing a few of my "older rhyming" Pieces. Many suffer wars division).
In your arms I imagine
No divide of region
In your eyes I dream
No country supreme
Separated by oceans
Alas, neighbours we join
Cut off by guns divide
No touching, love denied
The air we breathe…equal
The skies we see…identical
Tears we cry shape our pain
Apart by borders…detained
My heart rejects defeat
My mind wrestles deplete
Barriers cannot seize my desire
Barricades silence the town crier
Aspirational possibilities shan’t die
Anticipation of intimacy, my cry
Expectations I shall not forsake
Faith in the odds my partake
Throw me ball-like to the other side
Catch me free, lest free will collide
Hold peace in wars harrowing toll
Embrace hope, appeals my soul
My heart echoes through these barriers
Tracing your heart, unites warriors
Tones of silent sound…loudly spoken
Written on echoes waves, unbroken
Connected are we in love's calm
Stillness in chaos, confident in alarm
No walls, no heights, no depth, no width
Shall separate love, from hence we conquereth
Write on the walls of divide
Write our pledge to unite
Write freedom, for lasting peace
Write truth, write to decree
Inscribe for the generations
Engrave our hope’s celebration
Love’s strength, stronger than war
Master hate for love, blood abhor
This wall, this love, this hopeful passion
Recite my heart, carve my vision
Salwa Samra © 2012
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
In the Mouth of the Wind
Can you hear it?...the rustling mystic sound
Can you feel it?...secrets hidden, bound
Do you sense it?...the night’s invitation, exposed
Can you see it?...rushing swiftly, conceal, impose
In the mouth of the wind, those who covet
On whistling lips, those who crave it
Winds of thirst are them who yearn
Within its stomach, hunger burns
Tearing haltingly at its blistering edge
The breeze wafts to escape its pledge
Secrets hidden in hushed deceit
Diminish mysteries gusts deplete
The eerie mood…wind's prison door
Locked behind human’s sinister encore
Captivated, bound by sealed aggression
Storms ache to spew its opposition
Conflicts the wind yearns to typhoon
The sneaky, the sly, the crafty in tune
Festering winds visibly identifies
Exhaling winds, of humanities cries
Spirit of the Wind pines for harmony
Freeing its mouth from quarrelling hostility
Stealthy, devious, conniving, rations of the storm
The mouth of the Wind laments and mourns
Salwa Samra © 2011
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