Mina Lotfi


Home - Poem by Mina Lotfi

Ten o'clock,
Full of words
Play on my mind
In one row
My silent broken
Still there is time,
For dinner
Up hill there is home
Small one
Some old rugs
Som old dish
Grape branches on the wall
My shadow behind
What a view
On that sight
What is this feeling
Feel of being or happiness
Still I am in dream,
Of the house
Gazing all the night
Do you know why I am singing
There is uncompleted word
In my heart
Calling you to see, to feel
To read my song on the hill

Topic(s) of this poem: love


Comments about Home by Mina Lotfi

  • Mohammad Ahmadizadeh (1/20/2016 1:25:00 AM)


    happiness will be comlete when a love song is sung inside the heart. Nice work.
    Thanks for sharing it and with 10
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Poem Edited: Wednesday, January 20, 2016


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