"The velvet veins running through my deep-coloured wings sing blues, remembering the non-existent maple memories, lighting up my heart's frosty rays."
~ Deepali Singhvi
The soft folds of velvet enclose
her slim body as she ambles
across the woods in tearful throes;
Wrapped in velvet, on she rambles
in whispers of ache that perturb
her feelings that are in shambles;
Her saunter's like a healing herb
that relieves her from her sorrow,
Here, there's no one else to disturb;
She follows a path that's narrow,
sits beside a well-worn headstone,
cries as if there is no morrow;
Slowly, she sighs sitting alone,
Unlocks a velvet box and takes
a black velvet rose to bemoan;
Places it there, her body shakes
with deep anguish for whom she lost,
"I'll love you always", her voice breaks;
Walking back, she's like velvet frost,
Wishing their love were not star-crossed.
Do not say you are imperfect or untrue
there is nothing that presides your virtue
despite what age defects and wrinkles
you are a royal vessel loaded with crystals
Once Auden said in glorification of Yeats
he survived every calamity that hard beats
by his talent of poetry that brought him every rarity
healing herb, perfume, Arabian pearls of unique variety.
Grey hairs in your pockets are just a token
For those who were and are by life broken
Maturity and brilliance are great true evidence
Why sorrows and wrinkles have decorated your skin.
Your aches and pains are by your words healed
And also those of who suffer in their lives and dread
Like thin rains, they drizzle hearts so frustrated
And wake the roots of virgin jasmine and pretty marigold
you are not an estate or property of your own
You are a flowing oasis of verse for everyone
a unique sun that lights, fascinates and warms
hearts that are for love so aspiring and greatly athirst..
A Poem by Lateef Shareef Dhmayd. Iraq.
I Lied! When I said I can read dreams
and one day I'll get you a healing herb.
I Lied! I was like a waterfall unaware
Where to go with all these circlings filled by exiles.
I was a tired river
Lashed by the wind whenever it approached the banks.
I lied! when I colored the anxiety water with dawn’s red wine.
I ran, and my footsteps hold me to balcony dreams
I waited and watched, and ah what a long time I wait!
These tears that ignite from salt and blood
No longer, but spring’s commonage
Bloom on water’s 'black roses' with perfume grief.
I lied! because I thought I can read dreams
and one day I'll get you the healing herb.
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