I remember the touch of her skin.
Would you be my queen?
I feel like asking,
And I, be your king.
I remember her hair,
How it dances to the rhythm of the moving air.
How would I not stare?
In their sockets, my eyes dare.
I remember her voice.
When she speaks, everything else is noise.
She is a reason to rejoice.
And far more, than a choice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well expressed thoughts and feelings nicely embellished with poetic rhyme and rhythm. Thanks for sharing and do remain enriched.