Little pretty Lass

Little pretty lass

The day was long and deep—what a shower! 

A rising cloud brought for the 

smiling flower.

That is newly born and taking cordial kisses.

From the caring sun and in the shining hour 

A young Gazzele comes out of the dorsal ridges.

At that moment I had on my lips an aeolian harp.

She looked at me with gentle eyes. I wreathed her

Then she started to swing on the rainy grass.

In the big plateau pasture that was full of yaks

With my last laugh, I moved down the hilly pass.

In curled grass, some thoughts of my misty past 

Were with me along the way, and my mini map 

Took me out safely, and I felt as though I was thickly lashed.

I looked back, and she was still in knots of warm grass.

As well as her baby heart being in her hand, 

When her big eyes fell on a hunter, her luck ran

Exhausted, she got away over the sizzling sand.

To save her precious life like a pretty young lass

By fate, little Gazzele escaped 

another life attempt....

©Poet Affaq