Tag Archives: love poem

On the beach

the stones shaped by years of water’s caress;
stories trapped like wet sand sticking to our skin.
You kiss my sleepy eyes reading stories with your fingers
on me and sandy beach, washed by waves
following traces of our tryst that evening.
Two indistinguishable objects – us and stones
lost in their dreams of being one;
with the sea, the sand, the sun, the birds
our first memory together, our shared secret
screamed to nature, who erased all signs
of our footsteps and wherever that followed.

Written for Toads prompt for iterpretation of alcoholic Inks.

Love is

image
This is me and my love. Actually no where do we look like this but it is still a moment i cherish 🙂 And something he loved !

Love is like my stubborn heart
That fights with you
Even when if its not your fault
Love is like my battered soul
That fits in your words
Will it forever be my home ?
Love is like your hesitant smiles
That searched a reason
To be called just mine.
Love is like your king size dreams
Where your joy dwells
And i be the kingdom’s queen.
Love is like the incomplete song
We edit , we sing
And would cherish as we grow old
Love is like the melted bar of choclate
We eat less, feed more
To fingers that kiss and mate
Love is like my bad art work
You gush over it
And praise it beyond its worth
Love is like your perfect poetry
You write of random stuff
And i still find myself n it.
Live is like this verse i write
I do not wish to end
Yet i must pause now, and return to real life.

This girl who taught me love

This is not the whole poem but just the closing lines , ’cause I think it suits the Kerry’s Wednesday challenge for this week  :
 

she taught me patience,
and she taught me to cry with grace,
as the lovers bond over calls,
every touch demands her to wait.
This girl who taught me love…
she taught me love,
she taught me to believe my soul,
she says love always win
if you let it lead your actions
and control every of your thought.
This girl who taught me love…
she taught me to not care,
for all lovers appear the same,
no one is a perfect match,
but imperfect has a class, she says.
This girl who taught me love…