To Illy Poem by Thupuhu D Vaddeo

There is a lotus on her face,
There is a mother in her heart,
Thy lips, smirched ginseng and honey surfaced,
Your words conquer lover's heart.

There is a young lover in her eyes,
There is an apple orchard in her bosom;
Yielding yearlong labor of Season.
Thy navel in loud blossom.

A swain in farm may say,
“A bride is seen stretching between lilies early tis morn,
A rose is given, yet left mine heart to mourn”