Lucky is the woman,
She is truly blessed.
They say she’s lucky,
for the gaze he brings.
An intoxicating watch,
as he spreads his wings.
But the eyes can wander,
when colours change hue.
The beauty can fade,
like the freshly fallen dew.
They say she’s lucky
whose lover falls for looks.
She may be a pretty picture
on a page in books.
If the addictive attention
is the sole prize,
Moment it is lost
the entire joy dies.
They say she’s lucky
if he gifts her gold,
Such shiny sparkles
the diamonds hold.
But trinkets glitter
a hollow love,
Not the touch of hand
but the touch of a glove.
They say she’s lucky
as she is laden with pearls.
Gifts only help
liberty with other girls.
A gift could be
precious and rare,
It may not be true love
but a kind of care.
They say she’s lucky
if he writes a song,
She is the melody,
he hums all day long.
To be the muse,
a deep poetic dream,
inspiring gently
his lyrical theme.
They say she’s lucky
as she is on a centre stage.
A sonnet written
for a passing phase.
The songs will cease
when inspiration declines,
leaving the silence
in the lover\'s eyes.
Lucky is the woman,
when love hold the sway.
It exonerates the heart,
it clears the way.
A love that doesn’t bind,
but sets her free,
To be the person
she was born to be.
Love is one who inspires
it makes us aspire.
Gifting us all the elation,
on the way to evolution.
It elevates the spirit
to the open skies.
Where life is blessed
and time flies.
Lucky is the woman,
she is truly blessed.
Whose man is true
different from the rest.
Lucky is the woman,
who can find.
A love so rare,
subtle and benign.