I shan’t write about the green valleys that lay
Amidst the tall mountains, kissing the scarless gown
For they ain’t that beautiful and perfect, and
Are devoid of thee. Sometimes they attain perfection
When I behold you sitting in the lap of valley.
Blessed than the angels, more delicate than a flower,
Prettier than a dew drop, beaming than the moon,
You are. And so shall you be till
The sky falls into the lap of earth.
I shan’t write about the seasons that light up
The earth in different and unique ways,
For its your aroma they hold and sprinkle.
I shan’t write about the oceans, for its your eyes
That keep on calling me into the ocean of love.
Unto you shall I reveal the secrets of my wounded heart,
So shall I write about thee.

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