That Ancient Woman Is A History Poem by Lovita Morang

That ancient woman is a history
Her divine will a mythological feel
Sipping vapour from relics of poetry
sitting on a ruined glory
with
vapor rising from the hot cup of tea
Sipping vapour
from a crack in the earth, gory, glory
The earth beneath her is an edited history
Antiquity of beauty
Uttering mouth
Fancies of frenzy things
She call it lips of Gods
Sipping vapour from old Occitan lyric poetry
Kissing unbelievable things
Also some unadorned women
accompany her mystery,
Mari in millenniun reached this glory day
Travelled to another thousand days
Her name is shrined, she holds in her hand
as if a leaf from byzantine ivory,
Thrill and triumph, seated like a statute of victory.
O! Triumphant victor, from folds of imperial diptych,
She sips, a sip of vapour rise,
She finds her identity, her name is shrined
In tongues of unknown visitors and travelling troubadour
Songs are now historical course of time
Origins are inspired by marks left by makers of trojan territory
She is a history.

-Lovita J R Morang