Diamonds Poem by Nancy Ames
Diamonds
'My hands look old when they are cold,
except for this new ring.
Your smile on mine tries to define
a temporary thing.
Sit down again and please restrain
your hot and heavy hands,
Your lips, your grasping fingertips,
your endless, sweet demands.
My satin face, my hair like lace
are nothing but a sham.
I won't be cruel; perhaps this jewel
can tell me who I am.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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7/23/2025 8:52:35 AM # 1.0.0
