My Dear…

 

Her voice wake me up, let me shake the drool

Her riwaj make the heart feel at the core purified.

Times I have mistakes, making self a fool

She stands there with a smile, always, on my side.

The song of monsoon rain drenched soil I listen

When her fair skin touches mine every each time.

Her words sounds like the spring breath; lessen–

I found my upsets. Her silence makes me feel like moon

Spreading the silver light, but, not like sun–

Who bright up the day, showing direction.

My words found them lost, always on none, 

When her heart sore; words turn susurration.

She has this habit letting things unfinished.

The story of our love, thus, yearning finished.

~~xx~~

The verse had been written in Shakesperian or English Sonnet format.


National Poetry Writing Month Day #10: Portrait Poem

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13 Comments Add yours

  1. Incomplete sometimes is more precious than complete one…it never ends!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sangbad says:

      Will not comment…because wise had spoken…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. “Her silence makes me feel like moon

    Spreading the silver light, but, not like sun–

    Who bright up the day, showing direction.”

    Amazing lines!! Just loved these!

    Like

    1. Sangbad says:

      😊 Thank you Ma’am…it’s my pleasure…

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Sreeblogs says:

    Wah! Wah! kichu bolar nei…none can describe love and its pain better than you

    Like

    1. Sangbad says:

      Eto boro compliment…thank you Lady Henry…

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Amazing Sangbad. 🙂

    Like

  5. Indira says:

    Don’t finish your story of love…let it continue! 🙂 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sangbad says:

      Some story should remain incomplete like a good short story…our is like that…

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Sangbad says:

      By the way thanks for comment…and reading my verse…

      Like

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