DAME !


Beneath the evening moon,
Breaking the darkness,
I met a lady in the foothills.
with rosy cheek, wet eyelids
like the fresh dew.
Her eyes were wild and hair
like a flickering candle,
when the flowing wind,
made its naughty presence.

Ah! how great thee !
Praised the blossoming flowers,
and the aroma floating in the wind.
When she smiled, thousands of stars
sparkled with shyness.


There I stand in the pin drop silence
with no words, astonished.
An eyelid which never wants to close
I dreamt of setting her on my pacing steed.
Unknowingly my lips murmured,
" I love thee true !".

Poetry Magazine