Pencil Stubs Online
Reader Recommends


Turquoise On My Wrist

By John I. Blair

The turquoise on my wrist,
Green as moss, brown
As tree bark, cool, hard stone,

Could call down dreads
From Chang’an, Luxor,
Nishapur, Tenochtitlan

Where it graced tyrants’ crowns,
Inlaid Pharaohs’ mortuary masks,
Paved ghastly Aztec heads,

But here sheds
Overburden of the past,
Embracing me today

With thoughts alone
Of she who gave it,
She whose lips I kissed.

©2007 John I. Blair

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.


Refer a friend to this Poem

Your Name -
Your Email -
Friend's Name - 
Friends Email - 


Reader Comments

Post YOUR Comments!

Please enter the code in the image above into the box
below. It is Case-Sensitive. Blue is lowercase, Black
is uppercase, and red is numeric.

Horizontal Navigator



To report problems with this page, email Webmaster

Copyright © 2002 AMEA Publications