Saraya

        I wrap myself
        in the strange words
        
        delicious sounds
        mostly mispronounced
        
        and reverberating
        with adventure        
        

poem copyright ©2000 Anne Selden Annab

On New Years Eve

            
        On New Years Eve
        we drove through the juxtaposition
        of ancient hills pouring
        into a valley holding
        a huge satellite dish.

        We drove miles through nighttime
        curves, dips, and rises.

        We came to a farmhouse
        on a rocky cliff.

        Inside; the architecture
        is air and space and sunlight
        geometry.

        Lacy ironwork and square tiles.

        Cousins who kiss me on each cheek.
        Kids scamper all over.
        Arabic music and exotic dance
        mixes with rock and roll.

        My wrists are graced
        with gold bracelets-
        gifts given to me earlier today.

        On New Years Eve
        I danced with my blue eyed, blond
        Arab husband.

        Danced  closely
        exchanging soft murmurs,
        arms around each other
        and our newborn child-
        a son...

        On New Years Eve.

 

 

poem copyright ©2000 Anne Selden Annab

The Flute

        Books read backwards.

        Jaffar translated
        Kahil Gibran's The Flute
        (The Song).
        The text I read in English
        was pretty

            But Jaffar's unrhymed
              pure translation
              is so much more moving
        the pretty words replaced
            with depth
                the gasp... the last breath of life.

poem copyright © 2000 Anne Selden Annab

Script

   
           
        What the flowers write
        in fragile form
        spelled into shape-
        stem stalk swim
        in the Arabian breeze,
        become
        the odd squiggles
        found woven
        in formal rugs
        and flow with symmetry
        into the classical script
        of scribes.

        Calligraphy is arabesque
        and the script itself shifts,
        its characters embellished
        and burgeoning
        into geometric patterns,
        strong rhythms
        usurping words.

        A Garden
        is the echo of paradise,
        emphasizing seclusion
            introversion
        The central fountain
        like self
        
        reflecting.

poem copyright © 2000 Anne Selden Annab