More than a poesy….
Penning on ye
I can’t imprison you,
My birdie,
In the cells of rhetoric.
On each square of your translucent limbs
I see epics of love stories;
In your eyes,
A daybreak wide and open like seas;
Your face consuming the sun
Emitting silver beams like the moon;
Your blonde hair
Makes a nest for a heart in storms;
Your smile breaks the waves of joy
To ripple on faces of onlookers;
I live and die for rain of words
That drizzles from the clouds of your orangey lips.
I fail to confine ye in my lines
As poets of the world
must be in lines
For a glimpse;
Yet it is only a poetic tribute
To ye, my love, the puberty of poetry.
