Always My Style Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Always my style

No double game
It can hardly gain
Riding on two horses
Shall invite only curses

Who says love is for sale?
And can turn stale
It is as fresh as it was in past
It may certainly in stages

Let her engrave
simple love
on my heart
as piece of an everlasting art

what do I look in her?
Just through vision as lover
She must embrace me with grip
And try to keep love alive

I shall smile even ingrave
And behave
Same as I used to to be with her smile
It had been always my style