Right there,on the wall of lost time,sitting is a clock. Looking through the eyes of time,everything and everywhere. There isn’t solace,but a sadness that keeps getting deeper with time. If you know and look into it, you will find it hard to understand. The petrichor,the dusky smell of wooden trench, used long back to makeContinue reading “The clock on the lost wall”
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semi-tone,
Bright eyes, accomplish’d shape, and lang’rous waist!
A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune. So fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry. Till a’Continue reading “A Red, Red Rose -Robert Burns”
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:Its loveliness increases; it will neverPass into nothingness; but still will keepA bower quiet for us, and a sleepFull of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathingA flowery band to bind us to the earth,Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearthOfContinue reading “A thing of Beauty is a joy for ever – by john Keats”