come here, come here beloved one
moonlight seems too pale against thy face
come here, come here beloved one
night seems soundless after you said the words
come here, come here beloved one
my fireplace turned ice cold after your burst
come here, come here beloved one
death lost dread tonight
come here, come here beloved one night seems soundless after you said the words come here, come here beloved one my fireplace turned ice cold after your burst come here, come here beloved one death lost dread tonight - - - - - -I chanced up on this poem today, that is celebrated as Valentine's Day throughout the world.The intensity and depth can not be better expressed as in this poem.
Oh beloved one come Moonlight, night, your words, fireplace, death, dread , , so many points i collected from ur poem. Thank you dear poetess. tony
Time and again I have to read this poem for a Balance! I don't have to comment much here but have it in heart! Thank you Poet! 10! +++
By the end of your poem that refrain invitation of COME HERE is irresistable. Why? Because the even numbered lines give such amazing reasons for the speaker's desire for his presence. The speaker doesn't just make a general statement that could apply to many, many people, but rather very specific statements that show how closely she has observed him, come to desire him, wants to share with him. For example, the physical heat of the fireplace cannot match the metaphorical heat of his passion, or the brightness of the moon pales compared to his vivid presence. And his presence is so wonderful, time spent with him so rewarding that even thoughts of death vanish. This poem shows how deeply she knows the person she loves and that is the highest praise a would-be lover can express to their beloved.
I really appreciate the way you spend time on my poem Your deep understanding of my poems excites me
A beautiful. humble yet subtle call for Beloved. loved it. thank you for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Whereupon a rug I sit and still is my each night Beneath the moon upon your face the light pure eye's see through the night And he to whom you'd pray, to you would say and answered right.. iip