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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 11:25:03 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 125810
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Her charisma
[time] => 2006-09-16 09:08:27
[hometext] => a portrayal of pure love
[bodytext] => Her Charisma What a damsel she was! Very sweet and handsome, Cheeks glowing, hair flowing, her smiles winsome, Airs about her, attired in silk and plume she walked, Smiles danced on flushed lips; half gaped she talked. Down with the rosemary and down with mistletoe! A scion of the beau monde, bewitching and aglow! She worked up her charisma and allured everyone; With her bends and comely ornaments she’d won! She shamed the glory of flowers such was her grace, In a single gesture; savour and kisses she’d embrace; The world wasn’t poor nay weary when she’d style! Akin to the angelic beams she’d fascinate her smile! Pleasing in reticence, her countenance painted more, Her passions wouldst, as riled waves break on shore, The throb of every heart which she had come across! To a poignant visage she tutored an enchanting gloss! In wilderness she was a congregation, in dark a candle alight, If tears glistened in her bleary eyes! To gaze at; ’twas a sight, If she strolled along a stream, she was a lily on waters drawn, Her glimpse or a captivation! Who wouldn’t on that lily fawn? She wasn’t just a surface luster she was rather a deep glow, Faithful and fearless whose kind the world wouldn’t know, Waving gesture or her love’s flight to a heart she’d known, By and by she whispered to my heart and within had grown, A fondness whose bloom hadst lavished its scent far and wide, The wafting gusts to horizon yon, to others completely denied, Undreamt of; whose beauty shall I compare to her hazel eyes? Whosoever claims that but must fall, none equals her or vies! But now that she’s gone who shall haul up my lingering soul? Who had given fascination to my years makes me restless roll, How shalt I believe in the beyond? For that’s my reach above! Where’s she fled? Who’ll balm my silence? Where’s that love? The wind’s died, the flowers are withered and earth is grieving, My thoughts have gone wanton and the flame of love is leaving, For the hills where the moonlight’s still I wilt show the treasure, Of her sweet hours but to her truth that won’t match a measure! By Riaz Ahmad Raja Dr. August 4, 2006 Faisal Town Lahore [comments] => 1 [counter] => 198 [topic] => 48 [informant] => riazraja [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
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