To remember you,
To remember me,
With colours in the field of love;
And, the last flowers bloomed.
Turbans and shawls!
Living in the ladn of milk and honey;
But, the joy of the hypocrite is for a moment,
As the truth comes along to expose him or her.
Her, here!
Like twinkling ornaments around her feet;
He, there!
And, to bear with him when he puts it into writing.
Edward Kofi Louis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-last-flowers-bloomed/
