My weary heart does crave a moment's peace,
My weary heart does crave a moment's peace, Amidst these blossoms, fresh and fragrantly sprung. Do they not boast of scents that never cease? Till my hearts hope by thorny grace is clung. I've sat all day with longing, cherubic-eyed, Upon these blooms from dawn's first tender ray. I hoped their beauty might some grace provide, And bless my presence through the livelong day. I heard hums of Heron babies cloying and clear, They patiently seek their mother's warm breast, Neither do they show haste, nor hesitations near, Moonbeams tenderly glows on their sleeping nest Before the evening their way they'll find, Will gossip together carried by the jolly wind. ©Affaq