Love is just a sapling in my heart
with pale leaves trembling
on its brittle branches
or it's a new-born moon
barely visible to the naked eye
Love thou art frail
You never grow
You are a child always, demanding
and squealing
but I let you be the keeper of my heart
When the nights are longer
than the length of my dreams
you let a moth come into
the fire of its feelings
and turn it to ashes
and laugh with the wickedness
of a triumphant little devil.
Nosheen Irfan © 2017
Speaking of inspiration. When I read when the nights are longer than the length of my dreams I thought of Frank Sinatra and the song In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning. When your lonely heart has learned its lesson, You'd be hers if only she would call, In the wee small hours of the morning, That's the time you miss her most of all. I know the sentiment is not the same but those hours lost to time are and as for that wicked little devil what a cunning chaotic creature is he!
Cummings was right, love is frail. And youthful, a sapling, an infant sliver of moon, a child - great metaphors for love. And lastly, love is a little devil in more ways than one. I love the poem.10+
Beautiful metaphors of love though frail but the little devil that trumps the heart. Interesting write. Loved reading it.
This is a poem trying to be tender but its attempts are frustrated by another order of reality which has no concern for humans or their feelings. Love is very young and doesn't mature. But still you entrust your heart to this beautiful child. Hmm, that is an act of f-a-i-t-h.The poem shifts with a glorious image: NIGHT IS LONGER THAN YOUR SLEEP OR DREAMS. They can'r protect you or shield you or keep you blissfully ignorant. WHAM! The other order of reality smashes yours aside and your benign view of Love is replaced by another one - harsh and impersonal. How do we find our way back to the pure love you once sheltered?
A wonderful poem with a catchy title. Your concluding stanza is quite meaningful.
Your beautiful poem can stand shoulder to shoulder with that of Cummings (Cruelly, Love) . Delicately written, frail yet lovely as the subject matter. (10)
This is absolutely top notch writing- - -the totality of it overwhelms me. So many lines reach out and grab me and say hear me- - When the nights are longer than the length of my dreams- - - - - - - - - - - - this cannot be said any better than this.... perfection is supposed to not be humanly possible but you have just shown that to not be so! ! ! ! you let a moth come into the fire of its feelings and turn it to ashes and laugh with the wickedness of a triumphant little devil. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - oh my word! how am I ever going to forget this haunting mocking ending....I won't forget therefore this is the perfect ending because it never ends- the reader goes on feeling, reflecting, remembering A PERFECT 10.and this one had better show up as Poem Of The Day! ! ! ! ! on my fav list for sure
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Pale leaves are trembling still doing art of love. Love thou art frail still love carries amazing branches. An amazing and expressive poem is shared here with interesting view.10