to feel the fragrance,
of my loving sweet heart.
You are still standing,
all your old leaves,
have seen many autumns,
and thrown away somewhere,
like an uncalled garbage.
I see new leaves,
but your stem is the same,
where is my name?
Where is her name?
The two names are still together.
The terror of time,
could not separate,
the sign of love,
two hearts stitched,
with an arrow,
and drops of blood,
dropping down!
I see new names,
but the two hearts,
are still singular.
Time!
Oh my worst enemy!
How you dare to de-shape!
The sign of love.
Don’t you know?
you ruined the hearts!
and don’t you know?
Heart is the seat of God!
You kept our names,
I am thankful to you,
but the calligraphy,
you spoiled its beauty,
now a childish write.
Probably you are right,
this childish attraction,
this teen aged romance,
deserved this treatment!
Like your fragrance unchanged
still fresh and exciting,
appearance of your leaves,
like girl students pink and green,
of sweet sixteen,
sexy seventeen,
exciting eighteen,
nice nineteen,
have many new,
and lovely stories.
Stories of love,
but mostly romance,
some ended with time,
like that of mine,
and some,
tragedies of Shakespeare.
May be a few that are,
still going on,
with the same passion,
but made up,
in a beauty parlor,
a conjugal affection,
with a lasting life!
Do you remember?
The sweet cold winters,
an exciting call,
Of the naughty nature,
that brought girls out,
of the common room,
for hot sunlight,
or a desire to expose,
their teen aged beauty,
to the thirsty eyes,
to the hungry souls!
It’s now evening dear,
here I am alone,
and the sun,
is about to set,
is not happy with me,
don’t know why,
And now I remember,
William Wordsworth,
had described this sun,
as a melting orange.
Perhaps the sun,
is giving me a message,
it’s evening of my life,
my youth has melted.
Now I should leave the place,
for moons and stars!

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