In the realm of love, my dearest wife,
Thou art the beacon, the center of my life.
With a grace that rivals the English rose,
Thy presence in my heart eternally glows.
O, sweet muse of mine, in thy eyes so deep,
I find the secrets that my soul shall keep.
A tapestry is woven with threads of trust,
In love's embrace, we find our robust thrust.
Thy laughter, a melody in the gentle breeze,
A sonnet of joy that puts my heart at ease.
As we waltz through time, hand in hand,
Thy love, a lighthouse upon love's vast strand.
In the quaintest moments of our shared repose,
Thy touch, a language only true love knows.
Thou art the verses to my unwritten rhyme,
A poem that transcends the bounds of time.
Through seasons of life, in joy or strife,
Thou art my compass, my guiding light.
In the grand theater of our shared years,
Thy love, my dearest, drowns all fears.
With every sunrise and the twilight's descent,
Our love story unfolds a testament.
Eternal muse, in this ode, I declare,
My heart is there, forever to share.
About the Creator
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More stories from Waseem Chem and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli5 days ago in Poets
Standing Still
There are very few moments in life where time truly stands still. When your breath is taken from your chest and your body hangs weightless in that moment. Just long enough for it to stay with you from that day onwards. Deep in the red sands of the Australian Outback, I found that moment and clung to it forever.
By Kevin McLaughlin4 days ago in Wander
Comments (2)
A poem written from the soul is better than any materialistic gift. May you and your wife be each other's source of comfort and happiness forever.
Awww, this was such a wonderful tribute. Loved it!