Silent Nights...

In the chill of the wintry night
We arrive at the inn for a night, at twilight.
Like dry leaves roving in the wind
We count our small laughter and tears,
Like beads of pearls on the rosary in prayer.
Countenance of love, wake up in anguish
Of the mind, in the surveillance of the past.
And like birds of night, roams in the darkness.
The moon light is hiding in the blue sky.
The sniveling of a nightingale is heard faintly
In the distance, through the silent murk.
The spirit is writhing in pain and will remain
In vigil, through the night.

What is in store for the next day is not known.
The only certainty is, there will be
Again another dawn, and when the day
Becomes weary and no longer wish to continue,
The sun will set, and darkness will
Engulf the fading light like a lover.

My golden dawn…

No need for another sunrise;
You are my golden dawn.
Another sweet spring returning to the garden
Is in vain, since you are beside me.

I came here just to listen to the rustling of
Your anklet and the symphony it instill.
My life turned in harmony with the music
Emanating from the lute, of your consolations.
You have become the melody of my soul,
And its infinite, eternal flame.

We sat on the shores of our desires;
You stood in your waywardness,
Where the waves swirled and caressed you,
Writing and wiping out, our dreams on the sand
We spent nights with our aspirations
Sleeping on the stones, holding its own dreams,
And they turned our dreams, exciting our longing
Into lascivious yearnings, in the mornings.

The pearls in your anklets are the stars in the heaven;
The Golden Fleece in the sky is the silken cover of your breast.
Your words reflect the smell of the musk,
Your eyes radiates the lustre of a thousand lamps in the dusk
The ineffable delight searching a sculptor, you are
Ethereal and a paradigm of Venus.