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Love

The woman with the golden hair and the blue eyes

By Ricky LahiriPublished about a month ago 1 min read
Love
Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

Love, they say, never dies

Even near the end, when all must die

And with our souls love shall reach the heavenly sky

In the grip of passion, time flies.

So when I look into your sparkling blue eyes

Know that your fragrant golden hair I cannot deny

When you're away, me you deprive

Of the love in your heart, that makes us try.

And I knew not what love was, the knowledge to me denied

But yet gazing into your eyes, I felt I could fly

With every breath of yours and every sigh

With every smile and the glint of passion in your eyes.

And together we shall smile and we shall cry

When I run my fingers through your golden hair, my reservations I set aside

With your soul and body now mine

I am yours, you are mine, and we shall be fine.

But as we grow old, crinkles the skin, yet we smile

For we have one another and our destiny blessed by the divine

Oh, your eyes, your face, your hair, your body and your sauntering gait sublime

Even if you lose it all in the twilight years, you shall, to me, still like a diamond shine.

And in the grasp of passion, untempered feelings shall always survive

For you are mine, I am yours, and we are together by godly design

So when you're away, even for a second, clouds dampen the sunshine

For a moment away from you like a hammer to my heart strikes.

So let us be, now and forever intertwined

Inseparable and one, bound by strings serpentine

And even when we are apart, we are together in spirit and mind

You are me and I am you, our destinies entwined.

You can follow me on X(Twitter) for the latest updates on new poems and much more. Here's a link to my X(Twitter) profile: X(Twitter) Profile

surreal poetryvintageSong LyricsOdelove poemsFree VerseBallad

About the Creator

Ricky Lahiri

I am a researcher during the day and a poet and novelist at night. I am greatly influenced by the poetry of T.S. Elliot, Robert Browning and Robert Frost and by the prose of Leo Tolstoy, Dostoevsky and Dickens.

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    Ricky LahiriWritten by Ricky Lahiri

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