Wednesday, June 21, 2017

JH Sayyar's Sonnets

329
My poor love is slain by your cruel crooked knife,
My being dances like a slaughtered bird in sack,
I think, think and more think but I find no strife,
Between you and me, there is no love crack,
When mountain flowers at the top daily bloom,
Touching your silky cheeks smell bearing flowers,
Informing me anon you are still cute and green,
Finding he second love you twenty four hours,
O Lady you lost in the fake waves of face-book,
It is a fake love and the remoter charm of life,
The lover of Face-book liars, disloyal and crook,
Snatching your mind peace adding spiritual rife

O Lady! I am waiting for your being on the shore,
Like a forgotten mermaid, come I love you more