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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 11:52:43 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 19137
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Unsold Bouquet Of Red Roses
[time] => 2003-06-16 21:35:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Ashraf Gohar Goreja Very early in the morning Brumous daybreak of mid-November With vague feelings of deep melancholy She slowly hobbled towards The old potter's field, Where her beloved was laid to rest Years ago, under mountain crest. She stood silently first Then she picked a red rose From her flower basket. Putting it on his grave, Effaced her wet eyes, With old dirty frock. Then saying wonted good bye, She retreated to walk. In the freezing early morning hours, The street was quite and implicit, Snow flurry had just stopped. She saw again, some familiar faces Coming out of their venerable, Old homes. Holding lunch boxes. Native souls saying to each other, " bye, bye love" Walking away empty handed, Buying no roses, but their eyes often were candid. She paid no heed to them at all, Emerging slogan of fake love. She repeatedly heard for years. For they never bought Red roses for their love, they ever sought. She came this morning with accustomed pledge To sell all roses, before the end of the day Old flower basket was hanging in her arm Throughout her life, her chore had no charm. At the end of short winter day. She was still sitting on the wooden box, With last bouquet of red roses, That was marked down at half price Which could hardly any one entice. She saw her old friend, Jim at a distance. Howling with delight, she rushed towards him. And offered the unsold bouquet of roses In gleeful manners, as usually she poses. Amazingly, he admired her loving gift, " Amy, you never gave a single rose to me ever Its my lucky day, I thank you,however." "Today is my birthday". She expressed in a common way. He glanced at her wrinkled face and the roses, With an expression of deep love And presented it back as a birthday gift She took the bouquet joyfully in a shove, Gently she smelled, and found herself in a freshly love. Copyright May 19, 2003. Ashraf Gohar Goreja [comments] => 2 [counter] => 171 [topic] => 2 [informant] => gohar [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LovePoetry )
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