In the damp air of a pouring August
I long for words to break their handcuffs
I want my confession to be a hand-written letter
Forever resting in your bedside drawer
Where my thoughts have shaped into calligraphy
To fill in undiluted ink the pages of our story
Never growing feeble with the running time
Though the page might turn yellow with age
My love must stay young and wrinkle free
As the rain gains momentum after a slight nap
I long for words to spread themselves over the sheet
Like a wayward wave caressing the shore
Will you read my words?
Waiting for you to devour them with your gaze
Waiting for you to soak them, till they become
A part of the books you hold inside.
Calligraphy is first getting outdated but it's worth is priceless. Another wonderful poem.. keeping writing.
Typo: please read fast instead of first. I mean to say people are using type writers to type out messages and letters. Hand written letters are hardly found these days. Your poem has a great message. Top score and to my favourite.
My love must stay young and wrinkle free....lovely words of your poemy
Superb! ! ! ! Awesome metaphor I long for words to spread themselves over the sheet Like a wayward wave caressing the shore....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful write. Nicely crafted love poem. Thanks for sharing.
Many thanks for kind words Sir