An old flame, once hot and affirm,
Spreading the gentle galore of fortune,
One possesses abundant, not known,
Tips of the fingers and the toes are just a form,
Touching of it sparkle not to shut down the fuse,
Rubbing the shoulders of memories at the interface,
Flames aglow, where the minds have thought alike,
An old flame still young, lively and vibrating,
In silent mode, thousands of full moon have had shown,
Their beautiful faces in seducing shine and sheen,
Bringing all their hosts of stars to show off,
A small old flame in their hearts has never given up,
The desire to glow bright and they have chosen the right path.
Maybe the flame is always young, it is the torch that gets old. Flame keeps burning without blowing off. Beautifully presented in the poem. Thank you.
Hello Veeraiyah I like this flame very much. Flames aglow, where the minds have thought alike. I love that line Well done
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
ahh....the desire to glow bright! inked it so well poet.