Friday, October 17, 2008
When you recline on to my lonesome heart,
Like the tender leaves, into a rain of flowers,
You create an eternal season of evergreen spring,
Unrolling in me as a succulent tendril,
Filling me with, it’s dulcifying allurement.
The idle breeze was mischievously embracing you,
To comb your curls of hair, despite you covering it,
With your delicate fingers, to keep it still;
Like a young maiden attempting to hide her nudity.
Shuddering in the wind and shedding
The fragrant Mogra and the fanciful Sakura
Flowers from its trees, you have become
The rarest season in a life time, in this earth.
You created a heaven before me, containing
All its enrichment of ecstasies with enchantments,
Which you compressed in your boundless passions.
Making all the strings of my heart, in unison
Composing the sweetest melodies,
The celestial musicians were envying.
The enamouring dulcet of your console,
You embossed on my remorseful birth,
Will transcend through time and space, even surpassing
My demise, hiding always in my being.