Forever Sonnets (Poetry Blog)

The silk rose outlives the winter chill, Unchanged by sun, untouched by age or rain; It keeps its flawless shape upon the sill, And feels no sorrow, pleasure, pangs or pain. But the living rose blooms a single day, And yields her sweetness to the passing air; She knows how swiftly beauty fades away, Ah, in her fleeting hour shines far more fair. For endless life makes every treasure cheap, And perfection born of stone or glass is cold; We cherish most the offerings we cannot keep, Whose fragile splendor never grows too old. The silk flower lives, but leaves the heart unmoved; And It is the dying rose that is beloved. ----Affaq  #ForeverSonnets #PoetArtistAffaq #MysticalPoetry #AffaqPoemHunter 

La sagesse sous l'arbre Wisdom Beneath The Tree  The village School lay silent, rent and bare; Its broken walls gave teachers cause to cease. "The house must rise," they sighed, "ere lessons fare;" Thus learning slept, awaiting brick and peace. One kindly Soul assembled every Child Under an ancient Maple with spreading shade; The whispering winds blew cool, serene and mild, While birds their cheerful morning anthem played. The emerald grass became the woven floor, The rugged trunk the faithful teacher's board; The boundless sky became the roof once more, Flowers breathed fragrance where the children soared. For wisdom needs no a palace built by Men, And a loving heart can found a School again. ________________________ ---Poet Affaq  #ForeverSonnets #ArtistPoet Affaq #MysticalPoetry 

Chiming rill A singing stream through virgin valleys strayed, With ancient myths and mysteries flowing by; Like some fair maiden, sorrowful but yet gay, She bore her crystal bosom underneath the sky. Now swift she danced, now lingered soft and slow, Where fairy choirs along the greenwood play; They breathed rich hues upon the timbrous grove, And charmed my saddened spirit on their way. Her visage was gentle as a healer's grace; Each moonlit Eve bent low to kiss her stream. Soft winds enwreathed her with a fond embrace, Till all the vale became a living dream. Thus Love and Nature weave one deathless theme, And every brook becomes a poet's dream. ---Affaq   #ForeverSonnets #PoetAffaq #MysticalPoetry #PoemHunter 

The splendid sun enthroned the mountain's crest, And poured long beams across the summer plain; Curly clouds, with showers by mercy blessed, Awoke the smiling fruits and flowers again. Their newborn lips received the morning's kiss, While echoing hills proclaimed the joyful hour; And I walked forth found myself in liberty,  And sang as though my sound itself a flower. A young gazelle came forth with coquetry  And danced like light upon the rain-washed lea; She pleased me fairest as Ruth and her poetry, While all the mead awoke with that melody. Till lo! a hunter sought to steal her smile— She fled, and Life outstripped grim Death the while. ---Affaq  #Sonnets #ForeverSonnets #PoetAffaq #NsturePoetry 

tu eres la rosa            Pink rose, your perfume is made for others’ joy; While beauty’s mantle does your form enfold, Each passing soul treats you as but a toy, Steals your precious scent, worth more than gold. For whom, sweet Rose, do you such tides release Of rich perfume, to fill the ambient air? When misery’s shroud consumes your peace, And beauty’s bustle soon withers in despair. Your fairest cheeks their fragrant charm forego, And you are left to fade in murkey’s woe; No worth is discovered when loveliness is low; As long as you are fair, you are the Rose. So is my status held: while rich and fair, I am the gem that others seek to wear. ____Affaq N.Affaq  #Soonets #FoteverSonnets  #SonnetPoem #Poemhunter 

I beheld rapture among the summer leaves, As smiling flowers upheld the morning dew; And bowered havens: under the woven eaves Held speckled younglings bathed in tender blue. They leapt like pulsing petals in the ether  So newly born, so innocent and so fair, Their seraphic plumes made glad me as a believer, And filled with mellifluous strain the noonday air. When, after many months, I sought my shade, Aha, my little hermitage lay wild and green; The lawn, untouched by shears my hand had made, Had grown a peaceful world unheard, unseen. Then learned I this: what man would prune away May be the very life for which birds stay. ____Poet Affaq  #ForeverSonnets #PoetAffaq