Under My Fold Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Palms or no calms
I needed calm
Under the tree with gloom
As tree blossoms with boom

Since years I have dreamed
And beamed
Desires
Towards seven seas

You could say "Yes"
To face
My gentle manner
With tight love spanner

It has grip
But to keep
Love inferno
With calmness not to go

How come one good female?
Can excel
In life of man
To make him perfect and human!

I feel no less
Fortunate on face
As whole of world
Is under my fold