Back turned to the beauty of the river flowers
What nagging not to admire and love them?
A docile and well-scented petal
Comes to cloud my vision and my dream
Should I stop everything?
The announced north wind is coming from everywhere
The rising sun will soon be at its zenith
And I don't have a termite-style shelter yet
Her eyes call me on this day
And my heart pretends not to turn around
It's a beautiful fine look that binds my hands
An overwhelming passion that may end tomorrow
It's an unconscious spell that catches my eye
A beautiful, almost real illusion with regard to him?
She flies, she shines, she sparks
Of course I don't have his wings
But my heart has already traced its plot
Because it's a bewitching tenderness that simply awakens my senses
©mathusalah
M