"Loves' Delight"

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  • Love

    "Loves' Delight"

    “Loves’ Delight”

     

    Happiness is like a forbidden stranger
    No joyful feeling, no smile, no laughter’s
    No rainbow of colors, no fun to celebrate

     

    My loves’ delight you enter my life
    Rose’s falls like rain pouring with no end
    Blood of happiness now runs in my veins

     

    Our hearts now tied with love so endearing
    World brightly painted with blissful colors
    so curtained elegantly with sheer loveliness

     

    Each time with you is a time so joyful
    Time to cherish and time to long for
     worth greater than euro, dollar and gold

     

     Sweet moments we shared together
    we planned wonderful dreams
    Enjoying every things we are doing

     

    Strangers now are sadness and sorrow
    Eternal is our love, real joy we will have.
    Love makes us one; no more good-bye to come



    Rivers will flow untiringly
    Seas are filled with water all day
    our love will prevail, never will it fail

     


    Over the years of my life
    you will and shall always be my loves’ delight
    I will die and live to love you all over again



    As the church bells rings
     We dearly hold our hands
    Neither rats nor bullets will make us part

     

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    chwriter commented on "Loves' Delight"

    07-06-2009

    You expressed your feelings and emotions well here.

    rossmangeles

    07/06/2009

    Cindy, I am so happy that you are really taking time to read my poems. I truly appreciate your kindness.

    TheAngelOfDeath commented on "Loves' Delight"

    06-25-2009

    I love this poem great imagry and fantastic analagys to love and its meaning your are a great poet i hope i here back from you,

    rossmangeles

    06/27/2009

    I am humbled with your lavish praise. It inspired me more to do a better job next time. Sincerely thanking you for your encouragement and kindheartedness.

    In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

    Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.

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