Daughter Poems - Poems For Daughter

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43. Sapna - Poem by Praveen Kumar in Simply Yours

Sapna was her lovely name,
The only daughter of the country's king
Whose world over spread good name and fame
For being kind and ruthless for wrong;
Sapna, the gentle lovely princess,
Fair and tall with gleaming eyes,
Stalked the hallways of the splendid palace
Like colossus of the royal house.

Her bearings, an indomitable grace,
Her presence, forever, gentle fragrance,
That glow, in her form, spellbound all;
Her shapely vales and dulcet dales,
Those pinks of youth like a spring of ale,
Her undulous frame, brimming with charm
Stroked rare joy, full, gay and warm;
Indeed was heaven, to inhaust her all,
Oh, what a celestial spring of joy,
A feminine charm, while lush, can be!

The king and his queen loved the daughter,
More than the moon, his moonlit night;
In the wilderness of life, she was the only succor
To the ageing couple in the majesty's midst;
Not a day they could bear, while Sapna, not near,
Every hour did they fear while her words they couldn't hear,
She was their all; she was soul's soul,
They lived for her joy and yearned for her smile.

Glorious tidings, the royal couple dreamed
For their dear daughter, on the throne, they adorned;
Princes after princes falling for her charms,
Kings for her grace, racing in wild swarms
And Sapna striking summit as the leader of all kings.

Sapna came to youth like god in sweet charms,
Kindest in kind heart and love for all in soul,
Incisive noble mind and sweet refrain in all,
No anger she ever had, no scorn, no reproach,
She was very god, but human in approach;
A beauty in and out, she inspired joy all over,
She showed, not a thorn, but, life, a gentle flower.

One day, leisurely she, strolling on garden paths,
A flower among flowers, ' neath giant colourful wreaths,
Steering thro ' fragrant breeze, wrapped in silken cloths,
Found a noble man, tending a young green plant;
Young like the pretty princess, intelligent in deep eyes,
Fresh like mom dews, poised, he stirred her heart;
She saw him in innocent charm, eyes met eyes,
Heart spoke to heart and soul entwined to soul,
Their inner warm glows met and engulfed them in whole;
A desire for each deepened their sense of gulf,
A raging fire of longing smothered each sad self,
Though new to each other, lo, they built love's bridge.

He was Prakash, the poet's son.
A dear to the king, an honoured one,
Who, noble and good and gentle to all;
He loved gentle beauty; he loved the nature's bounty,
He loved irresistible charm, pours out of feminine form;
He loved the glow of youth, sparkling, fresh and warm,
He loved lonely souls, rich in inner worths;
He had that rare gift of reaching hearts 'neath
And sifting chaffs and grains from life's messy hearths.

He saw the lovely princess, very Venus in midst of green,
Bespeaking to his heart and splicing with his soul;
A subtle spring of warmth, wrapped him in happy swoon;
Lost to all sense and restraint, he walked to the little queen,
Bent his knees in her front, paid obeisance from his soul,
And said, he works in royal garden;
He sought her orders to carry out by all his eager heart
In entreatment of his reverence, due to royal respect.

Grateful gentle Sapna sought
A rare rose, dangling from a plant
And eager Prakash offered it,
Writ with his love's hymns;
Now, the time to part for them,
For, they were not ordained to love;
Now, the hearts must tear, for,
They could not live so near,
The love-borne hearts turned away
With bitterness creeping in soul.

Princess Sapna astir as she,
Could neither sleep nor keep awake;
A gentle fire engulfed her,
She couldn't call it pain or pleasure;
A dull sweet swell in heart's heart
Tilled her limbs with painful yoke,
Her blank sad eyes fixed at nought,
Languid she lay, still with sad yearnings.

Prakash invaded her soul and mind
And her being's every pore,
He spread his tentacles wide over her
Young and fresh and innocent heart;
Like sunshine he spread,
Like midnight he weighed;
She could bear no more the pain,
She could bear no more the weight,
The princess' dire helplessness
Swelled as streams of tears in eyes.

The king and the queen saw the sour sorrow
Sitting on the face of dear daughter;
Sapna wouldn't say what it were all,
Nor they had any means to know;
Sapna, a happy endearment ever,
Like this sad state, they found her never;
The dear parents would bargain their state
To make their daughter happy and sweet,
The king and queen would upturn all hell
To fulfill dear Sapna's whatever will,
But, alas, Sapna wouldn't anything them tell.

The queen thought to snatch Sapna from her shell
To endearing world outside, expose her soul,
She begged dear Sapna for a leisurely stroll
With her, in royal garden, for a short while;
Reluctant though she was, Sapna followed mother,
Hiding her sorrow 'neath morning fragrant air;
Sunshine couldn’t stir, no flowers tempted her,
Cool fresh air, she found drab and squab;
Though she was there, she was not there,
Though with her mother, she was all herself,
Nothing touched her to fill her inner gulf.

Like an arithmetic rule, she shadowed her mother,
Like night following day, a motion followed the other;
Lo, Prakash, she saw, tending a tender tree,
A glut of pleasant lights, ran through her sad soul,
Shone her dull eyes, rose up her withered features,
A thousand blooms blossomed a thousand sweet colours
Deep inside heart's heart and she shook in mild tremors
Of the shock of unearthly unexpected pleasures;
Oblivious who she was and where she was then,
That she was in stroll with the dear mother, queen,
Like a possessed winged angel, beloved Sapna ran
And stood beside the poet's gardener son;
Now, relieved lovely Sapna, of all her oppressive gloom,
All the world's precious joy in face in full bloom.

Prakash saw his adorable Sapna,
Saw the joyous shine in her glittering eyes,
Stood up, he in perfect reverence,
He bowed to her royal reference
And sought her orders for him to obey;
She spoke no words, she made no signs,
But looked to his eyes in stirred passions;
Barriers fell and distances liquesced,
Beings of two souls wide opened their doors;
Passions spread passsions,
Desires stirred desires,
They drowned in reciprocal warmth;
Silent though outward, they pined for each,
A common flame of emotion welded them to each;
Neither could they part, nor do each other reach,
Neither could they bridge, nor ever could they breach,
They lost in that eerie aureate dream,
Like a babe lost in a candy's stream
And stood facing each, feeling love's flame.

The queen-mother saw from afar this all
And knew reasons for the daughter's sad soul,
She stalked her honour near young Prakash
And stroked her daughter's quivering sweet frame,
Sought what was the gardener's dear name
And since when his soul knew her lovely daughter;
Prakash said it all with awe and due honour,
Called the princess a goddess, descended on the earth
To grace and bless mortals by her immortal birth;
Brewed like age-old wine, the gracious queen,
Saw for her daughter, the gardener's passion,
Wide like space and deep like time,
Burning his world in celestial rhyme;
Queen knew not how to respond to the tide,
For, the princess scaled high for this lay ride
And the king had plans and she had dreams
For the princess' long future, to be nobler and prime.

Princess Sapna adores you in heart,
Come, and grace the king tonight,
A greater honour, the king may grant
To the beloved of his beloved daughter
Said the queen to the love-drenched lover;
Prakash desired no more honour
Than his Sapna so close and near;
His garden stood next to the royal home,
There he could see her in leisurely roam;
What more for his life, he could desire?
What treasure than this, he could aspire?
Yet, he said yea for Sapna's sake;
Lo, Sapna strayed in her joyous peak
To hear her beloved accede to the tryst
To smoothen their path to love's fulfilling post;
Eyes gleaming in joy, heart thumping wild,
Sapna dear bid adieu, like a comforted child.

The queen mother, deeply sad in heart,
For her dear daughter's lovelorn state;
Neither the queen nor the king could ever meet
To a humble poet's son to be a noble mate
To Sapna, the princess, their love's sole seat;
She whispered the knotty strait to the unsuspecting king
And together they contrived an ingenious plot
To fence passions and sperre the immature bond;
They both firmed up to the task in hand,
Though, for Sapna, the parental hearts did bleed.

Prakash, the poet's son, called on the king at night,
Alas, nowhere, his Sapna was at sight;
He bowed to the king, stood in staid silence,
Seeking ordinance in obedient reverence;
The king saw Prakash, his daughter's sunshine,
Parched was his tongue, within he felt a pain,
Gently quivered his limbs and sweats streamed out,
Never was he so weak, yet he spoke out:
Prakash, dear, the honorable poet's son,
My daughter, princess Sapna, assigns you this mission,
That you enroll in royal infantry
And rise to fit in to royal entry,
My daughter decided to wait till you rise in rank,
She forbade you meeting her, till you meet the goal;
So speaking falsehood, he dismissed the poet's son.

Never Prakash shied a career in war,
But parting from his love, how could he ever bear?
Years in a career in a distant border
How help his steady progress to gentle love's chamber,
Figured not out the humble distraught lover;
How the gentlest queen of his heart's throne
Could throw those severe terms at his sweet soul,
He strove to reason it all, but, alas, in vain;
It was the royal order to follow at all cost,
Though couched in Sapna's name by the royal host;
Prakash pined to meet beloved Sapna at least once,
But, no way for him since the royal forbiddance,
Gloom all the way, Prakash, enrolled in royal force.

Sapna waited all night to hear about his tryst with the king,
With starry eyes in sky and wakeful dreams in wild swing:
The queen-mother next morn came to Sapna's bed,
Fully aware she was, her daughter's anxious state;
Uncertain of own soul, she began her fell part
And said, Prakash, the poet's son, let Sapna dearly down
When the king the previous night, sought him to choose from
Sapna as his bride and an infantry rank for him;
She said, Prakash, the poet's son. Chose not Sapna's hand
And hurried that night itself to join an elite band.

Sapna couldn't it believe, nor she it disbelieve;
A voice inside cried, the things refuse to behove;
Starry eyes hid in clouds, her wakeful dreams shattered,
Tears streamed out as helplessness swelled inside;
How of all, dear Prakash, could reject her and part,
How could her dear Prakash, could be so mean to her in heart,
Sapna brooded alone in uncertain mental state;
No light could light up her, all looked bleak and dull,
No food for her had taste; royal glitters for her were waste,
Loathed she talk and smile and rooted in a dark lonely cell,
Withered her youth and figure, languished mind and soul
In the bottomless steep despair, fogged her life in whole.

She loved to visit the royal garden
And brood where she met face to face her man
And talk aloud her grief in open air
Where he once tended plants with care;
For, the place, for her, was Prakash's symbol,
Visiting that spot was despair's short withdrawal,
A secret storehouse of her hopes and dreams,
A spot from where her nostalgic fancies streamed;
Like temple, she visited it, spent long periods.

A day, she found her Prakash's poet father,
Tending plants like his son in the palace garden;
She stood near him and enquired about his son;
The poet saw the lonely princess, couldn't say who she was,
For, brimmed with tears, his eyes were without shine,
He stared at her and cursed his fate
And said her enquiries came too late;
Entered, his dear son, the royal infantry
To oblige the will, the king had imposed
And killed himself while serving as sentry
As distressed he was, why he couldn't say, he said;
He visited the place where his son loved to toil,
As his last respects to his son's soul;
The broken old poet could speak no more,
With tears in eyes, he attended the garden's chore.

Sapna now knew all the truth 'neath the play,
The games her parents played to throttle her love,
How her sweet love's life was worked like clay
And shattered to oblivion for her royal sake;
Tide gate of remorse took over her soul;
She lured him to her and brought him to that make;
It was her first love and he was her all,
But, plucked was his precious life, the fate's crudest joke;
She and her love for him, conspired for his end,
The albatross of his loss lay on her innocent head;
In pain, her heart broke, her soul cried for him,
A desire to flee the insensitive world
And join her love in another world
And do her all to comfort him there
For the accurst past, both of them share
Seized her soul like a torrential rain;
Her desire to live now ebbed low,
Her life force began to churn slowly,
No passions, no emotions, no grief, no pleasures,
An intense white sunshine warmed her being,
She grew in strength of soul and resolve,
She felt her worldly ties, untie and dissolve.

She entered her abode, where once she was born,
Now, her ties of past and future being shorn,
Like a possessed indifferent soul, she took a little knife,
A hundred intense scenes of her sixteen-year life,
A thousand lovely beings that made her as she was,
Seized her soul and burst out as tears;
She thought of her parents, who gave her all they had,
Her soul prayed god for the parents' pleasant future;
She remembered her Prakash, who gave her his soul,
She knew not for sure, she might meet him ever at all;
She looked then around and saw her own world,
Which she would part forever in a while,
Perchance to dissolve in unknown cosmic clouds
In an unending probe of Prakash's dulcet being;
She slashed her wrist and bled to death,
The pink of her life had faded to pale,
She fell on the floor with no trace of pain,
For, the pain inside was no match for it;
She bled and bled alone and breathed last,
Alas, the world, an infinite beauty, forever lost.

Oh, how a thing of beauty, breeds that much pain!
How gentle love throttles joy, brings misfortunes!
Perchance, the world is yet imperfect for great things,
While like colossus, treads perfection, destruction it brings.


Poems About Daughter

  1. 1. 43. Sapna , Praveen Kumar in Simply Yours
  2. 2. 018. Sapna , Praveen Kumar In Shobha Priya
  3. 3. 0092.Abhirami Andhadhi Slogan 90 , rajagopal. h..
  4. 4. Poem From My Heart Called The Lady On Th.. , tyrone allen
  5. 5. Only Two At Teenage , Adeosun Olamide
  6. 6. Father You A Daughter , Lamar Ingraham, Sr.
  7. 7. No Poeckets On My Clothes , alexander opicho
  8. 8. The Temptor And The Tempted , alexander opicho
  9. 9. All I Wanted Is For You To Love Me , Clarence Williams
  10. 10. A Dialogue , Sari Mavi
  11. 11. Freedom , cynthia Routen
  12. 12. The Kalevala - Rune Xviii , Elias Lönnrot
  13. 13. The Kalevala - Rune Xxxviii , Elias Lönnrot
  14. 14. Who I Am , Kathleen Weibe
  15. 15. Wrong Side Story , Christian K. Montiel
  16. 16. The Day She Left , Kylie Archer
  17. 17. The Kalevala - Rune Xix , Elias Lönnrot
  18. 18. Aqua Daughter , Kris Oberckal
  19. 19. Wall Street Journal , Rob Villanueva
  20. 20. Just Cry , Madison Luvs
  21. 21. Mothers And Daughters* , paul bamberger
  22. 22. The Kalevala - Rune Xxv , Elias Lönnrot
  23. 23. Deal , Ratnakar Rout
  24. 24. Zarema I Do Acquainted With My Father Ra.. , Yuri Starostin
  25. 25. One From Many , William Graham
  26. 26. Hagen Magistrate , Lindsay Smith
  27. 27. She Died , Efe Benjamin
  28. 28. Im Sorry? , kandyce barnes
  29. 29. Sacred Epiphany , Ammar Nadeem
  30. 30. The Christian Bride: Part Second , Thomas Aird
  31. 31. The Fall Of Nineveh. Book The Twenty-Third , Edwin Atherstone
  32. 32. Grandma Monkey Loves , David Aoloch Bion
  33. 33. Esan's Daughter -By Okoemu Barnbas , Okoemu Barnabas
  34. 34. The Three Roads , Victor Daley
  35. 35. Not Yourself , Allysyn Bryant
  36. 36. A Man Who Loves , Kgagamatso Chimelwane
  37. 37. African Daughter I , Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
  38. 38. King Estmere , Anonymous British
  39. 39. Beautiful Soul. , tyrone allen
  40. 40. I Am , Natasha Bolling
  41. 41. Angel Mi Bub , rachael mcfarlane
  42. 42. You Are My Everything Mom. ^_^ , tenzin tsomo
  43. 43. My Daughter , Scott Stanley Davis
  44. 44. Tenth Defence Of Poetry Lecture , alexander opicho
  45. 45. Why African Men Have Good Daughters Than.. , alexander opicho
  46. 46. Texting , Jesus Christ
  47. 47. Her Fathers Eyes , steve stirk
  48. 48. Israel In Egypt. Book Sixteenth. , Edwin Atherstone
  49. 49. The Fissher-Mans Tale , Francis Sabie
  50. 50. Essays On Literature , alexander opicho
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