Our most precious gift is that of hope,
Not the one that comes with promises,
For they are mere shackles,
I speak of hope,
Hope of a better tomorrow,
The kind that sings,
But not in anticipation,
The song flows from the creator,
Turning sobs into bright spots of laughter,
Words into a great storm of feelings,
A meal into a sacred offering,
Like the first morsel in a lover’s mouth.
Of all the emotions the mind experiences,
From despair to anger, to lust to loneliness,
In surrender, the spirit is pure,
And it calls forth an avalanche of events,
That buries the ugliness in the snow of love,
Ah, beautiful is life,
Blessed,
Never without you.
3 comments:
Hope, For You.. Ismita, so beautiful and true.. "beautiful is life, blessed, never without you" it completes the title.. Love your poem.. PS: I am writing a love story series so if you wish read it when you are free, searching her.. in the streets of London
and when can we read your next book.. I read in your reply that you are busy with your next book.. eagerly waiting for yet another romantic book from you...
Someone is Special
@Sispl, wonderful! A love story series huh :) good luck with that. I am sure you'll do grt! I finshed my second and thinking of writing fantasy for my 3rd. Do keep me posted, will surely chk out 'Searching Her...in the streets of london'. be good.
I am flying Ismita.. Happy to read your comment.. :-)
Someone is Special
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