Sweet Scents Of Flowers Poem by Alexander Foald

Clouds of grey hanging outside my window
Slowly drifting away, carried by the wind-blow
I’ve been waiting for it to rain, but it won’t even let fall a drip
Just hanging around in vain, scattering dews on my lips

The cold wind blows her hair like roll of waves
While in the air, afloat the sweet scents of flowers
Her eyes invite me to walk, her hands holding mine
And as it gets into the night, the fireflies show up

Why is it that men are easy to be drawn by a beauty?
Such frivolous, slight excuse to languish in a state of dream
Shapeless, this feeling as if exists only to be consumed
And spent wasted for the pleasure of one’s desiring soul

The sun sets behind the mounds of earth
Blushing the sky, in where the heaven dwells
She looks at me in the eye, investigating my mind
And as the moon unveils, I know that everything’s fine