I long to meet
Someone who needs my love and closeness.
I have a lot.
I want to share.
But everyone has a string attached:
I have nothing.
Only my love.
That much, I can give.
It's not made of wood
Nor of dusts or stones.
Pure gold lying unwanted
At the bottom of my heart
Like gems on the bed of a clear stream,
These I will pick myself
For her who comes.
A dream they say.
But I am not afraid.
Love has stood the hacking of more inclement weather before.
I am like the flower.
It bears no grudge.
It is open
For whoever cares to admire it.
Mohabeer Beeharry's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Undemanding Love by Mohabeer Beeharry )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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