Forever Sonnets (Poetry Blog)

And I love you In these flowers of May These bouquet's are witnesses at the moment. They have taken note of us so keep on your way  And I love you these flowers of May. Remind us that love binds, and hate divides  Come sit close by my side it's My holiday.... These merry hours, will not come again,  So keep oath and roam again in these shady sides. When the spring time will appear again come alone. These fading eyes would shine and God decides. And I shall stand and you sit on My throne Sometimes I' may give you a surprise .........

Festival of flowers  Praise to thee! who granted  you; the beauty, Winds and venues leap up with liquid sweet. Salutes to your petals; ah dear Tulip baby!  My heart did swell by your love and greet,  Someone an alien, just pass by your Eden,  Wearied of many days sojourned for a while,  I see, your scenes have become more florain And worry your beauty might beguile Me, Though I' m an only access to My family. Earth be feeling more fine; by your perfumes. What a worthy festival of colors held,  By foothills, I long to make there happily  A joyful bride, nature have bestowed you beamy dyes,  And your nude beauty is bewitching my Eyes,  Stars in skies, spending all their lights,  And draws nigh the night with delights,  Nothing is so fragrant, as like glory of flower,  Mine eyes do love to see you hour after hour.

Stars slept late with the spent lights,  Scenery slept early revealing jolliness,  Winds walked, to far heights playing violins,  Of his splendor and the vastness,  Clouds napped into the ditches of hills,  Take care! Cool groves still and mute rill,  Every candle burns out slowly and silently,  And the sweet night departs away sincerely,  Where are you? Give voice, dearest joy. When the solitude, my spirit annoys.

Nagara falls  ------------ Come, oh friend, let's go to Nagara Falls And listen to sweet songs  of native birds from Montreal hold an oath of unity and stay away from wrongs. In the summer season You're looking more lovely and tender It is my aspiration  for us to be together  in this pleasant  location. Come o, friend! Let's go beyond the stars  to azure skies, ah,they seem so awesome. Let's play the guitars  of love from the albums of Adam and Eve. The journey is slightly odd O friend, tell some tales, my soul, The wind is cool and the moon glows-  The stream that recites her tale  to dwellers on the shore. Ah, let come, we shall walk in shades of leafy trees ,  Like twin stars in a village of clouds.  toiling hand in hand with melodies,  While alone , I carry living memories Of our bravest heroes, now into shrouds .... Come O friend, let's go and have our holidays in Montreal.

Shalimar city park where we walk with our kids On its stone walls we do see images  Of hart of doe and fawns giving cheers to visiters  These antique animals dwell in these bushes throu dim ages Shalimar is a prettiest place where oak grows Parallel to parallel along great maples,  By it's eastward, the smoke blows over high hill's, And myth makers invent their own stories  Which never really exist .... But brings a momentary joy in ears of listeners  They do paint these stories with their lovely colors..... I had an opportunity to live with rustic dweller's Their femmes love to cook in azure esman The wood they use is free for them ...."Stella says "A very kind yoaman is in charge of kingdom of green oaks" In rainy days these green woods seem so awesome, When ligera breeze hails for hikking with her sweet notes.  And Stella smokes! before her fire pot no one.  Can dare to harass her, when her hound is by her side. And her pretty pair of pashma go...

Dwelling  A vinary! among the flames of marvel  My heart is unquite can take any shape.  The place I dwell and dwelling has become harsher..... A meadow of deers  A monastery of monks  A movement of merchants  A wilderness of wander lusts. I accept only a religion of love Where ever the caravan of love turns,  That's the belief; that's the faith  That's the path I do keep.

A half-witted I was to sleep at spring time  In walnut tree; when wind was sweet and cool. In asleep My lily hands have been tied  And was made to drink an unsweetened fruit.  A half-witted I'm, some savage; entered my hortus. And stealth my chameli; when  I was in asleep. Mouth sealed off; a hesitant to fight back. This a melancholy; that struck me deep. No more smile; no more time to play with Moon A half-witted, I was to sleep at spring- Tide, now scary-scary;  I set alone  Recalling the days of chameli; at evening--