Rosy Invitations Poem by Akhtar Jawad

In a wet morning after rains throughout the night,
A night followed by a cloudy day of mild sunlight,
An army of stars led by the moon's feeble offence,
Soft and mild moon failed to break through the defense,
The ball of fire appeared in the blue battle field,
The mighty sun habitual of lifting the victory shield,
Cleared the clouds and killed the violent rains,
An aurora is it or these are red blood stains.
Leave it for the sky to work on war's aftermaths,
I am interested in the service of a Nightingale,
A perfume from a little house I can inhale,
Peep in through the glass of the closed windows,
What I see just two beautiful good looking shadows,
I listen to the words, "Come on Florence.
God takes care of you why such a maintenance,
You are a born beauty by face, by body and by heart,
You are now late my fairy, my doll, my sweetheart."
She wore a white uniform of a care taking sister,
She gave a parting kiss to her lovely life partner,
"So long we meet again in a lovely night,
Happy Birthday sweetheart wishing all that's bright! "
I shall be with you with a beautiful and big cake,
Really sexy, delicious, spicy snacks I shall make.
Here comes a nurse with a lovely smile on the lips,
Still excited with the parting touch on her hips,
Enters the children ward, a place of sick flowers,
Like the dense clouds like the pleasant showers.
Waiving her hand on so many rosy invitations.
Puts her hand on the forehead of a red rose,
With a tissue paper she wipes its leaking nose.
Here is a pink bud of a rose a patient of lever,
With a thermometer she notes down her fever,
Here is a white rose suffering from blood cancer,
In her school she was adjudged as the best dancer,
Many others inviting her for her angelic aviation,
Smiling responds to each and every rosy invitation,
A yellow frostbitten rose with her elbow below her head,
"Sister! It's my birthday, an orphan my parents are dead"
Happy birthday we'll celebrate it with a lot of joys,
With the lit candles, a delicious cake and a few toys,
Sister your reliever is sick" a messenger says,
In the name of service she never believed in nays,
Her yes to the service in the name of God,
No negative nod always a positive nod!