Always waiting of
your footfalls to spend
the rest of life.
If I must go,
will you say goodbye to a
lone tree sawaying in fire?
The romance of
river was unique. It always
gallops to meet a planet.
Till you speak, can
I kiss you, so that nightingale
sings sweetly.
Your deep and dark,
eyes always send the
boatsto find harbor.
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: August 19th, 2024 21:35
- Category: Nature
- Views: 7
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.