If her smile is a happiness for thee,
If your eyes finds a home in her.
If her presence a point upon to glee,
It must be care but is not love dear.
Her words seems sweeter than the sweet honey,
Her eyes seems deeper than the deepest sea.
Her fairness seems fairer than the dame dove,
Then it must be respect but surely is not love.
If her lips appear as the roses though,
And her softness must be softer than
The most calm,white and softest snow.
it must be pure but surely is not love man.
Ask thyself once more dear mate,
Will she cry in thine sorrow out of thine grief.
Or she's just a stranger bounded by fate,
Then surely thine love must be a true friendship.
Still the time is the greatest poet friend,
Writes each letter of moment though.
But you may never know nor will it send
The letters typed in thine love for so.
Let me not write it again
To remind thee, thine lot of pain.
There must be joy after each sorrow,
And surely will the white moon glow.
M.Saifuddin
©saifuddin
S