Paint Of A Bridal Morn Poem by Kamal Prashar

Though he was Him, and she was Her

They lift the cover of a darkened moon

The call of night, no light if were

The shimmer of face it seemed a boon

The eyes of God and laps of fur

They wished to sliver, love and swoon

"Thee yearn to hold A shaft O' Sir? "

"The whim O' Lady will fulfill soon"



The sins of Sacred were taken await

That hand of gold Her face caressed

The smile of grin with pleasure He ate

The Curve of lips, She stuck and pressed

Two Forms engraved with visions of fate

They stay so keen, unseen, undressed

"To thee I pray my Lord of Date"

"Thy shape arise my heart be blessed"