Fondness Poems

You think that I don’t love you, Well that makes my heart so very sad My love for you if measured, Could go round the universe and distant galaxies time and time again, My love for you could fill every

If someone says good days will come I welcome But feel that mine is in-depth a shy welcome For that great concept all have to be in everything good Peruse individually elements of goodness we should Everyone must decide to

Once I went upon a time On tender foot down a far fled lane A tangled haunt of yesterdays astray Long was my hunt for a fondness or A certain door A value or an anchor For a ship to

Helpless I found that coquetry personified before me And resign to me without any excuse whatever,she Seeing my trepidation, He is so much in trance– The famous crazy lover forgot his uproar in love perchance I am affiliated with Exclusive

With fondness I recall love that was: Lyrical like the breeze that kisses my forehead, That tanned my skin is pleasant warmth! With drums and tantrums they celebrated the union of two souls, And then the matriarchs spurned the love

Her scent wafts alongside her and sinks into my heart; For I have become fixated, by a desire for her touch. She was glorious and overpowering, from the very start; I am hooked and addicted to her love; she is

Our first meeting was a coincidence, I was attracted by her sweet innocence. The great life awarded me a new company, She is priceless, such people aren’t many. Few days later, I got in contact with her, There was something

They have always been together Holding close, that fondness for each other Be it for a soapy shower And drying themselves on a blower Or resting as and when in their Box- bed Like some lovebirds newly wed Life for

I open my eyes trying to pull- in his sweetness closer. And as his laughter darts away- I wake up to reality’s punchline. Time may have set us apart- but here I am lost and clueless. As he speaks words

How do you feel? Is a question I hate No point explaining; you cannot relate I don’t want to talk I don’t want to share You could be sincere I really don’t care What’s on your mind? another bad line

She rocks the stage with elan Speaking not much with her clan Music her soul her heart Hands always moving like a work of art Strumming with fourths eighths and sixteenths Counting 1234 in patterns of beats Never a count

The fondness and affection which I always came to give, Has now gone away, simply ceases to exist, My mind is now contained by a deep and heavy mist- Cant concentrate on others, nothing more I have to give, My

Poem Dedicated To My Father Late Moinuddin Hasan–An Ideal Teacher- BEFORE TEACHERS’ DAY Moinuddin was his name,eloquent, which means— One who is an aide to faith and for that weens He lost his father when only six months and mother,

I feel jealous to cast a glance on it On my deprivation, brooding, I sit I feel something lacks somewhere in me What made her simply a devotee? My rival she dotes upon Mainly from dusk to dawn Lonely I

It was dark it was dread! It’s a place of death in death; Hole in hole of wholesome hole It was a place, full of dole- Penciled picture past damn hell: Seemed it vague, which eyes can’t tell But the

My wings fly with flaming heart, soaring high in the sky but in utter vain. Like sunshine in the rain, but burnt and charred, it so hurts. Delving into the same old refuge, filled with solitude in a world full

(for the Painter Girl) we fight the hatreds of the world not with new hatreds, but with beauty, come each erotic kiss each moment of passion we share tilts the global balance, love me with urgency and desperation and we

What that I am left with, impaled in jaws of mantis, starting a tug of war, for the otherness in me, seeking a bloodbath between my poise and incestuous blue hole of black walls. I gave you my voice, my

The morning sun rises gently, And the dew glistens as diamonds. The waves pound intently, And the grass sways in the highlands. The atmosphere is full of silence As the springtime mildly wakes. ‘Tis the rebirth of the islands, And

It was there when I was not Born. Gently playing even when I Mourn. Slowly awakening the hearts full of Stone. And purposely breaking the ice I can’t Burn. It reflects the way I Act. It inspires the way I

He halted.. Snuffing the air, he turned tail and galloped off. Still, Without much delay, We gallantly dragged our efforts; shooting at the poor beast in hot pursuit I was unwilling in this sport. In my heart of hearts I

After breach in tolerance one peeled truth becomes incendiary. Afraid of the known: pitched against unknown. Dying young with stiff upper lip, the grief, was not curtained enough. The malignant spread, refused to retract a name from the epitaph. Greed

Forever Pain seems like a beautiful concept, as I sit contemplating your demise. I gazed into eyes constantly deceitful in nature, I guess that would explain you ignorant behavior. Love seem like it would last forever, but thoughts of selfishness

When I met you for the first time You gifted me..My Basket of Dreams Long But Forgotten, Lost But Found ! Full of Bliss ..Thy Basket of Dreams Its Woven with silk of your reflection Its coated in pink, your

The world is cast under darkness, That’s what the earthly theme goes; A living heart goes the same And so on a Rose. Truth has charred off, With fraudulent leading the way; “Make us free from Darkness”—— Couldn’t I hear

She sat by the fireplace waiting, For her husband’s returning. It was Christmas Eve, He would get an early leave. She had laid the table, Switched on the light cable. The fire was warm, There was a quiet charm. The

You look up at the night sky with those sad, swollen eyes of yours. Closing your hands, you place them over your heart, and you tilt your head up towards the stars. There’s so many of them. You observe an

When I don’t know where I’m meant to be It’s like being in some sort of Purgatory. A space Where I am out of place, Too close yet far away From any kind of signpost that might say, Hey! You’ve

Physically abused, Mentally accused, Emotionally scared For the ones she held dear. Her burning flesh And the positive tests Her leaking face Would always make my heart race The looks of disgrace would show on their face Without a clue,

As rage dwindled and I came to be Writhed in agony on the ground, I howled. With beaten eyes, I looked around Buds of flake and broken shards were found. Wiping my eyes, I sat on the filthy floor My

The trembling hands were ostrasized for living more than the mafia. Why the marigold will not use the magical potent to understand the conceit? Wounded by street an unease settles on devestated trees. How the broken moon will rise now?

My head, buried in a swarm of gadflies They just will not let me go No matter how hard I try, They still slouch, their spirits remain low. They shove my mistakes in my face They spit and say I’m

I wrote this piece for my angel from above, Source of inspiration, as she taught me about love. She is the most beautiful lady I’ve ever known, Every time I see into her eyes, my mind gets blown. I troubled

Absent deliberate intervention vis a vis suicide, supposed “natural” longevity of generic human primate ride ding bareback across avast broke back mountain minus pride defies accurate prediction, though hypothetical projections can override unknown factors, whereby excluding misfortune nationwide (and/or globally

If there were a spell or mystic enchanted charm I would keep them for myself and bring you to my arms My soul would show a shine the crescent moon never wore Then hug you throughout time….. closer than sea

I Captivated thee first in my arms Then thy submission of self is not at all strange I blossom flowers upon that countenance So seeing me loveliness of gardens appears thereon I, fail to recognize my own self then When

Welcome! Welcome! I’ve been waiting for you. Now tell me, be honest, what did you do? Walk past the needy, ignoring you knew? Or was it more sinister thought through and well planned? I see you have blood smeared on

Feeling the warmness of love, Tight and meaningful like a sweet coo from a dove. Family genres bring us to have a life to live, Daily going by, letting it pass like a giant dive. It doesn’t hurt to learn

I want to live and touch the sky But on my bed I still lie While many moments pass by I still wait for the pain to die Humble I was till sorrow struck Living in misery was my luck

Down the memory lane, Walking on the green pathway, Running hand in hand, Along the blue line, Listening to the singing birds, Watching the waves, Tapping in harmony with the melody, Feeling the gentle touch of the breeze, Causing the