Saturday, October 17, 2009



About her face she curls her words
A golden crown of woven voice
Every moment her very touch
Carves my tablet with her verse

Sister of artistic spirits
To my knees I drop:
I long to be her muse
As she is mine...

Goddesses who frolic in story
Together we are
Patriots of our own sacred nation
An epic in the making

Copyright Xiomara A. Maldonado 2009


  1. Thank you, Krystal! It's a poem I've been working on for a while so I'm really happy you like the revised version. xoxo