Saturday, April 23, 2016

Come love, Selene,*

O You, the Serene,
Selene,
Whence Thou doth come
With rounded face,
Over the mounds,
Floating over my city's architecture,
Like my love's face,
How i think of snow,
Little flakes,
Falling over me,
Painting me,
Beautifully,

O Thou Art
Not just a satellite,
Of our planet,
Thou hath remained,
Even after many years so
Our day of wedding,
Honey dripping
From thy lips,

And me,
Even not being able
To kiss Thou,
Can feel thy kiss
Silvery, like a tune nocturne,
C, Chopin as
Had composed
So heartily,

O whence Thou i see,
Over the hills and mounds,
Floating, carelessly,

How I think of a poem
Once i read on your face,
Our reaching a country side,
And stillness of Thy romance
Holding everything stilled,
Yet music how within the soul and heart
Cascade like flowed, over pebbles how
Cool waters flowed and danced,

And more i get into you, Your beauty,
Filling me, yet leaving space enough
Not fulfilled, to hold more of Thy purity.

(*Note: loosely based, on a photographic scene, )

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