Marked with her fair arrow still my lady I miss;
Perched upon my mind, memories like a cherubic kiss;
How? In her hands I am a mere instrument,
Only she can blow me, tune me to such an ululant!
Nile becomes a pilgrimage if my lady waits at the other end,
Keener, I would row my boat at every turn and bend;
Until her sight is mine and her side is mine.
Night and noon, I would soar currents till I taste the brine/ on her
Elbows and cheeks, my lady has been crying.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Teenage Eyes
PoesiaLife through a teenager's eyes is filled with baffling complications. Personal relationships, morality dilemmas, love and lust, courage quests, the feeling of growth, need for privacy...lets take one more look through our Teenage Eyes.
