GLOBU POEM

You lament on your hands appereance Lacking it's fingers with elegance Putting with ornaments won't suffice As they were molded through hardships But your hands need no accessoires And proclaim its gracefulness As they mark of your sacrifices To whom you love with tenderness Your hands

Where everything is arrayed Ridges are perfectly hemmed Birds dance as they serenade Alas, freedom is whispered Misty fogs rise from the cliffs and gone when it kiss To amuse it's guests And the golden sunrises Blackberry trees are around And are too close to the ground To be picked a