ONCIDIUM ALOHA IWANAGA

Dancing girl, you flower serene

if Tutankhamen’s orchid queen

your yellow gold would be his pride

with all your sisters by your side

 poised and perfect standing there

shades of Henna in your hair

Nubian slaves would prune and pluck

honeyed eunuchs trim and tuck

 round Amun-Ra your soul would twine

 your heart light-feathered weighs divine

seekers scratching Luxor’s tomb

will find you here with me in bloom.