Sonnet

Sometimes in the moroseness of love,

I wandered quiet far and regrets I sang.

Sometimes I slept on shore of springs,  

And doom myself for your love's and desire.

Sometimes on the heroic brooks I hung upon,  

To meet my fond and the passion.

Sometimes on my hut cottage, I laid my head,

And counted the stars page by page.

Though you vanish away with your redness,

  

Beyond the hurdles my welfare, I manage.

Nevertheless! your voice stayed in my hermitage.

©Affaq Naibe