Forever Sonnets (Poetry Blog)

With whom shall I present this  bouquet of loveliness? To whom shall I present these leafy longings?  May someone come to me in the form of a friend? With whom shall I render this souvenir of songs? My lyrics, you alone tell me with whom shall I share, these puzzles and riddles concealed in my  Consciousness, may someone attend my journey? With whom shall I share this hugger-mugger Laying below my tender lips,  with whom shall  I render these burning feelings, emotions, and Aspirations, may someone sign my plea? May someone enter mine heart for a moment? I address it quite meekly, and it's mine psyche, There is no haste, therefore decide wisely. ---- Affaq Naibe   © 2012 

WINGS On wings of Memories ... As gentle as a Butterflies Flight... Floating in a misty Fragrance... A feathery touch Opens minds Flow ... Sunshine tears of Smiles... Reminiscence where Rainbows caressed the Sky... Soul depth... Clicking backwards In windows View ... Like footprints... Erased by the sands Of time Renewed... A flight... So Gentle On The Mind ( like the song) (C) Janice Fisher  Photo Credit (c) Dragon Fire Fotos Janice Fisher 

My chemeli A halfwit, I was made to fall asleep on the hillside, When winde was gelid and weather was murky. In my unconsciousness, my hands have been tied. I couldn't make a cry, or smell, in that hurly-burly.  I was made to drink an  unsweetened fruit, A savage entered my orchard,  stole my chameli, Later, he stole the show and my dear keyed flute. My mouth was sealed off, listen to me O'kelly:  It's such a melancholy, that it struck me deeply, No more smiling, no more time to play with the stars, No more air guitar or even hobbies, honestly From all the worries I am now free, virtually. Dame silly, eh, chameli, I became weary from  My long journeys, the world is no more near me. ---- Affaq Nabi 

Soil opens all doors .  Soil is like the hot pad to pull out the burning hot rack without being burned. When we tend soil she works for us so we can do our best.  We only have life, not things  Not a job Gut soil, I tend, gives me life's wings Misfit feeling I did not tend my gut soil Hating self, I ignored my gut soil Not loving my body, I starved  my gut soil Soil is my source of life she tends my soul Soil, she keeps me in the here and now  To have learned from the past Remembering pain-free My wisdom at last  She allows me to not ge burned  by perfect knowledge of God  She creates my advanced biology Soil is the source of life for everybody, that's not odd, I tend my soil I fit in I feed my soil, I understand  I connect to soil first, I love me I love me,  I can l Iove everyone Yes, I can A simple soil artist, I Am Alchemist Chef Kynthia  Relationship with Soil Caring action to make it happen  Clarity and Wisdom...

I am a bard of the spring fields. where pleasure  and beauty yields, I am a philatelist. From the merry land, to lead this "king of hobbies" To its glory, is my firm stand; I am  a wanderlust,  I don't go with people who are racial and unjust. I am an artist. I paint with the music of my heart. I am a Galah and sing my melodies to roses And daisies on the meadow, ah, above all, I am a lover, travelling on the cascades, Beorg and duns to discover my beloved... ---- Affaq

Alex, don't leave me alone, mine angelical soul, This could be a severe setback for our lonely lives. Why should I live in this sinful world order?  And how wailful would be, that ghastly night. Alex, don't leave me alone, mine angelical soul, My life's companion, this rosy life, now slowly dies, Till yesterday, this princely life was indeed all mine. Within the rotation of time, it has shone full. Recall, there is a word between you and me,  Which bound us together in those tearful times. It was yummy, funny too; you've woken me up, I do feel like a fearful child, mine cheerful light. Alex, don't leave me alone; I request you  Three or four times, there is  mist and haze  Over the main highways, you will  not see me,  Nor shall I see you in those storm tides. Alex, is not it a twist of fate, we figured out this Momentary life and its glimpses, but a little late. ----- Affaq

Ma-in- law  Along with a dying femme, pale and puny,  She treads forth early in the afternoon. Covers herself in a solemn veil. the way to go  Is the harbour of wolves and the typhoon. She gathers around little parched offshoots,  With her shivering hands on her knees To warm her balcony, while the spring pulls  She takes labour from her twin young bulls. And among the locals she makes  her day  With her folk poems, in return to  her cakes  And ale, she receives their aid and honour. Her son's wife Kate stands the next door With her two, In the bowers of rivershore,  Chewing the sweet gums and doing  The puzzles all day along with her new. ----- Affaq Naibe