Azotus
Shaikh Ibrahim and his a many story
Sheikh Ebrahim sat
on a golden mat,
in a stunning cave
by the sea.
Swiftly
He came,
Shaikh Ebrahim last night,
Churning dark spheres
Under rain and thunder.
He rode Hayman,
The transparent horse
An aerial Pegasus.
Flying
Seeking enchanting caves,
Beneath the cliffs,
Amidst a treacherous
sea,
The sea of Sadiron.
Oh! how very fine
his white beard.
Astonishing strobe
of light blowing
on his carmine turban.
Silver shimmered,
Allover his luminous robe.
A holy being,
Sheikh Ebrahim.
His Small mouth,
Glistened
Flashing that weary smile
at Afoor.
The pinkish Afoor,
Who bore giant wings
Who wore a grey basket
around his awesome nick.
Sheikh Ebrahim grubbed some his
Shining objects and things Afoor
has restored from the seabed.
A deep diver,
an amphibian.
Ranging in the still waters,
Where erupting mounds.
The Sheikh
Over his heart,
Under his tired eyes,
The Sheikh
fore-handed.
Careful what he felt,
Cautious what he rubbed.
Pearls or diamonds,
Or blazing stones,
Greater than a human palm.
Then and there,
he grasped a frame.
Held close,
when he froze
by the picture
Traversing sniffing deep
an old dusty portrait.
Stained with volcanic ash.
the skies ruptured
When he raised a rasping voice,
Training the creature,
'Be careful with this one'
Blow blow divine whistles
And soft waves will ripple
cascades and more!
When Hayman neighed
at hollow gates.
Bedding Afoor farewell,
As he disappeared,
Sheikh Ebrahim!!
In his some very old ancient mist.
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Shaikh Ibrahim and his a many story
Shaikh Ibrahim and his a many story
