I wonder how these words flow,
As I am nearing to touch you in fact!
As though I grieved enough,
Your last departure,
For lot more days to count!
My love, this flow of words,
Is an assurance of hope,
That we will last all heights and lows,
As we try this terrain, hard as it may look!
And you flow as a poem,
That has never been written.
I write these notes,
As repeated prayers of a devotee,
To his gods,
With a bag of flowers to please!
These words flow with all of my thoughts,
That like waves, consumate on your bare shores!
And I know you are my sea,
Laying vast and deep to play,
With this wave in a wild game,
To reach it's shore of beauty,
With a magic of words in display!
As I am nearing to touch you in fact!
As though I grieved enough,
Your last departure,
For lot more days to count!
My love, this flow of words,
Is an assurance of hope,
That we will last all heights and lows,
As we try this terrain, hard as it may look!
And you flow as a poem,
That has never been written.
I write these notes,
As repeated prayers of a devotee,
To his gods,
With a bag of flowers to please!
These words flow with all of my thoughts,
That like waves, consumate on your bare shores!
And I know you are my sea,
Laying vast and deep to play,
With this wave in a wild game,
To reach it's shore of beauty,
With a magic of words in display!
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