Why should she love me?

Wrote this one, when I realised that love is not just a saying “I love you” but a way of life.It’s helping and sharing the good and bad times. This one goes to all those men, who love someone, but are not fortunate enough to be with the person.

Why should she love me?
When I am not around,
At times and days when she is down,
Far away in another town…
Seeking to fulfil my own greeds,
Failing to fulfil her sweet heart’s needs.

Why should she love me?
For in springs do we meet?!
To share the fruits but never the reeds,
That grow in the blooming gardens of her thoughts,
For I am not the gardener,
Who trims the thorny boughs.

Why should she love me?
When I know I don’t deserve it,
I am just a name and not the real hermit,
Who walks through the darkness with a lamp in hand,
To show the path through confusing lands.

I grieve and grieve,
On my splendid failure,
My ego, my libido,
My inexistent grandeur,
For I wish and long,
To be ‘the gardener’, ‘the selfless hermit’,
To be ‘The Man’, who really deserves it.

Mesmerized

Your smile can light up the dark,
Your eyes compel my heart,
Your hair are like silk of the night,
Casting it’s spell through beholder’s sight,
You are an example of His perfection…

To my beloved – Thoughts on a Summer’s Evening

Come to me my beloved,
Come and feel my feelings for you;
Feelings which are beautiful and pious,
Like spring’s morning breeze, hone and dew.

Give your delicate hands in mine,
Let your head rest on my bosom,
Let me feel your hairs’ fragrance,
In your tranquil beauty forget the world’s confusion.

Do not utter a word, feel my adoration through the throbbing of my heart…
Let me gaze in the brilliance of your eyes for my part,
Come closer, feel the ecstasy of this evening’s tranquility,
And let me be lost in the radiance of your beauty for eternity.

My Thoughts

I sit here;
In the solitare of an autumn’s night,
Thinking of you…

You, and winter’s sun,
Beaming on your lovely cheeks and soft hands,
I imagine how your eye’s thrill my heart’s run,
Capture my thoughts in totality and turn me a bit mad.

A madness that needs no whip,
But love conveyed from lip to lip,
Not just a kiss, much more than that,
Much more what words fail to convey,
And ears can grasp,

My thoughts then move on, yonder and beyond …
To take you in my arms,
Hold you close to my heart,
And feel your loving warmth,

Warmth that assures me of your love for me,
Your love – my soul’s food & my hearts content,

I dream of a Christmas we celebrate together,
Close together in a warm couch- fire crackling in fireplace,
While snow freezes the world outside,
I hold in my hands your lovely face,

I whisper in your ears …
“I thank Him for this wonderful night
Just you and me…
No one else to rob the bird of our love,
Of its flight”

“I wish time freezes like the world outside,
Leaving you in my arms, and that look in your eyes”,
While you nestle in my arms, melting away my hearts snow,
I think “…no matter how she loves me – I want to a little bit more”

I go off to bed, after a hard days night,
I hope you come in my dream,
… give me your love upright.

I love you more than words can say ……

She …

I sit here, lost in the criss-cross of calculations,
Trying to be apace with the ever turning world…
Everything is usual,
Until a sound is heard.

It reminds me of the bygone days,
When I was eager to know how life tastes,
I had my love by my side,
To hold me, support in every stride.

I remember her face…
Like a vague imagination of sun
on a cold winter’s day,
The depth of her eyes,
Her enchanting ways.

I remember her love…
Love inexperienced as a bird-ling learning to fly,
Love as hot as desert of Chile,
Love as chilling as winter’s crisp frost,
Love – comforting, promising and soft.

I still do remember her intoxicating perfume,
Her hands as warm and soft as plumes,
The passion in her eyes,
The warmth of her touch,
The redness of her cheeks,
When she used to blush.

Her womanly beauty,
Sweet like mead,
The heat of her lips,
The touch of her hips,
The ripeness of her bosoms,
And all those supple confusions.

Neither pan can write,
Nor can words define,
Such a beauty was all mine…
But now it’s all away,
My life is all work no play.