Those moments,
Are yet awaiting, at portals of thought.
In the coolness of December,
Thousands of years ago
The promise of your lip,
Had kissed the hands of my desire
And upon the other side,
With dreams and tears
Had set stars upon my being
And had beckoned to the
Protection of my soul
Even now, in the chill of the breeze
One sees
The web of your words
The soft tinkle of your laughter
And the finger of your thought
Still wipes away the red beads
Off my heart. And sighs
Upon the wide canvass of emotion
Paint the vision of your acquaintance
Bemoan your anguish!
Where are you?
Upon the scorching byways
And alleys of life,
December yet awaits you.
The web of your words The soft tinkle of your laughter And the finger of your thought Still wipes away the red beads Off my heart. -Beautiful narration.. A wonderful poem! Thank you for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good