It was the gossamer gown of yours
that led me to write myriad lores;
When I looked through your silken veil
saw a chuting prismatic fairy tale.
A trek leading to your crystal tiara,
I named it Eden after your crown's flora;
Then I climbed up to your neat hair vine,
there I saw a beauty as a maiden bride.
For me, you're a raw gem waiting for a tambourer,
who'll do on you filigree with wires gold and silver;
For them you're just a chunk of glass, but you're
for me, a jewel in a gold foil to be worn by Kaiser.
All heavily appliqued and densely beaded work
in other's fabric of life, won't lessen your shine any;
If those are polished, rightly placed diamonds
you are a virgin beauty, for which, others envy.
Copyright © October 2019 DrNikhat Bano All rights reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem