Deep Love Delight

Deep Love Delight
Deep Love Delight
Come across the moor with me,
in the bright moonlight,
with no fear or fright,
I''ll show you all my heart,
with my deep love and delight.

Its better for you to go with me,
It''ll give you a moment light,
to think about the times to come,
which''ll give our bond strength and sight,
with my deep love and delight.

Don''t procrastinate your any thought,
It''ll make you future out of the sight,
just do whatever you think is right,
But,I''m here to look for you,
with my deep love and delight.

I want you to be with me,
all the day and all the night,
to share my feelings which I''ve for you,
I''ll give you every moment of my life,
with my deep love and delight.
  

Jun, 17 2010     707 chars (5 sms)     2951 views       English Poetry

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A LOVE LIKE NO OTHER . . .


I never felt a love
Like this before
It''s a love like no other
Something I have always hoped for

A love with friendship
Humour and heart
A bond so strong
It would never part

A love that makes you smile
From ear to ear
A love that is joyful
Without any fear

A love that is beautiful
From the inside out
A love with no tears,
Pain, or doubt

A love with soul
So tender and true
A love that I have found
Only in you...
I roam by day, in search of shady trees
In between these huge palaces of stone
A shady place to sleep time and sun away
and then return to that old cold stone.
And to dream, looking at the mocking stars.

The sun slowly peeps at me, smiling
and I naughtily show my back to him
The world starts running around quickly
And tries to wake me up, but in vain
All I know and have, is my sleep galore.

These few lines, for those homeless friends, who sleep on the streets, these few lines, for our helplessness on seeing them. These few lines for their prayers and our reasons.
I didn’t decide to carry the load of sorrow,
sorrow existed, this house of sorrow also existed.

I didn’t lift the Jam-e Jam to drink wine,
wine existed, this house of wine also was there.

It is said: "He who created the house of love,
let the beloved burn and the lover burnt."

The cruelty of the red rose, and the cry of the nightingale—
the candle existed, and this moth also existed.

One’s pain is too much, another’s little,
one’s heart is afflicted, another’s smiles.
if one day you feel like crying...
call me.
i dont promise you that i will male you laugh,
but i can cry with you.

if one day you want to run away....
dont be a afraid to call me.
i dont promise to ask you to stay,
but i can run with you..

if one day you dont want to listen to anybody,
call me...

i promise to be very quiet.

but
if one day you call me
and there is no answer....

come fast to see me,
perhaps i need you.
Alphabetic advice for you:

A B C

Avoid Bad Company.

D E F

Don''t Entertain Fools.

G H I

Go for High Ideas.

J K L M

Just Keep Lovely friends like me.
Even if the candles fade away
and winds of silence start blowin
and rotten leaves start to
embrace ur coffin
and roses that lay by ur grave
begin to wither petal after petal
Even if the clouds passing by
shed their tears in blind agony
and even the stars
that we used to see together
that sparkeled our love
begin to glimmer
like as if they were never there
even if the suns of happiness
leave the evenings of ur heart
and the autumns of death
triumph the valleys of ur life
Your feeling is depressed... You always seem to be depressed and cry easily. You
are a bit (ok, more than a bit) over
emotional and are too sensitive. You rarely
smile, and when you do, it''s very weak...
your eyes always seem to be misty and though
others have tried to console you of your
sorrow in the past, no one can seem to get
through to you that there''s more to life than
being sad. No no one seems to hang around you
anymore which makes you feel worse, and you
feel as you''re loved by no one except maybe
your family. People might see you as the
"girl who doesn''t talk to anyone",
Across skies, the sun starts to limn
Waking up to a morning hymn
Roosters’ crow and sparrows tweet
In deep slumber, an alarm sweet

Strumming upon the leafy ground
Sweepers crafting a hip sound
Coffee poured and buckets filled
Streams gurgling, dreams fulfilled.

In the kitchen, vessels clang and fall
At a crescendo, milkman starts to call
Telephones ring, radio springs alive
Joggers pant, in harmony all dive.

As the band plays, starts all festivity
From stillness of night, a sudden levity
To awaken me, do thy make all the fuss
In pure merriment, I wake up thus

Fill my ears again, before I yawn
Haunt with visuals of a glorious Eon
From morning dew, a lesson reborn
Learn and listen to symphony at dawn
in your eyes, i dont see any love anymore
you are the one i need
and am not the one you are looking for
i begged you before i leave
keep me close, i am so naive
......you pushed me out
and you closed the door
Words twist and tumble
Through my mind
But I can''t grab the right word
Or the right line
So we sit
In silence
But it’s not uncomfortable
In fact I love it
You rest your head on my chest
As we lay here
Lovers entwined
Hearts tangled
You raise your head
And look into my eyes
And I see our love
Almost as if it’s a real force
I don’t ever want to lose this moment
You lay your head on my chest once again
And now I can feel your heartbeat
And my hearts skips
And I finally find the words I’m looking for
I love you
One lover is roaring.
He is eager to see a shining face.

Another is distressed,
keen to see her lustrous hair.

Another desires his lover’s breasts.
Describes them as ripe pomegranates,
Hails them improperly,
Praises apples of Isfahan.

One lover says: "My beloved is going away.
My liver''s blood became my wine.
From my cry the world became deaf.
Is this friend in the grinding mill?"

Mine is above all others'' loves.
He is dear, a husband to widows.

He knows everything,
whether the meaning or the expression.

The light of his candle doesn''t vanish.
He is the beloved, I''m the lover.

He is the ocean, Mazun the fish,
How wonderful, what an endless sea he is.
Because of you I chose exile,
I’ve been estranged from my tribe for some time.

I watered my flower with my tears,
Injustice! Don’t take me away from my flower.

There’s nothing wrong if a king wants a pauper,
If a pauper desires a king, he can’t help it.

My desire is too high; my luck is too low,
There is no cure for this pain but death.

What’s with the melancholic ascetic?
He argues with me about faith and religion.

The religion of the lover is the beloved.
I’m taking no path but my own.