Seconds slash sadness,
moments melt.
Consumed by time
fallen faces fade… aside from hers
Salted streams shower sweetest smiles,
enshrined in aged eyes.
Tortured tongue longs the kiss,
matured in lips of memory.
......
Love
Is not about being
Loved
When spring is in full swing.
Love
Is not about returning
Love
In early or late spring.
......
True love is not a word to recite, but an emotion, that your heart is concealing. Lovers, express love all the time, but those are just, thought to be feelings. How does one even know, if it is love for thee they are feeling?
Some lovers, are love drunk all the time, but once awoken, with hatred they are dealing. Is that the irony of love? or is it the lust of the flesh, that kept you wheeling?
You can’t blame love, for what you do, if not for love, life would not be appealing. It is this four letter word, when truly felt, to every soul, will bring healing. Other than that, all words are simply to your heart teasing.
Your heart may have many beats, but only one tune, will leave you kneeling. Look for what I call a wise love, and set aside, what to your eyes may seem pleasing. The painting, that is today flamboyant, tomorrow will be dull and displeasing.
Saleh Ben Saleh
REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart,
Of Stuart, a name once respected;
A name, which to love was the mark of a true heart,
But now 'tis despis'd and neglected.
Tho' something like moisture conglobes in my eye,
Let no one misdeem me disloyal;
A poor friendless wand'rer may well claim a sigh,
Still more if that wand'rer were royal.
My fathers that name have rever'd on a throne:
My fathers have fallen to right it;
......
It's like a wish have you
with me in all of my dreams
when they come true.
if a have a choice
i choose fall for you
a hundred times more
like the lovely and magic one
don't mind how many pieces
......
Seconds slash sadness,
moments melt.
Consumed by time
fallen faces fade… aside from hers
Salted streams shower sweetest smiles,
enshrined in aged eyes.
Tortured tongue longs the kiss,
matured in lips of memory.
......
Love is a game, a journey of sorts,
a search for the one who is right.
And of all the seekers, just what do they know,
are not all just travelers at night?
For it seems in darkness they search hill and dale,
hoping to find their true love.
Awash in the masses, a literal throng,
......
True love is not a word to recite, but an emotion, that your heart is concealing. Lovers, express love all the time, but those are just, thought to be feelings. How does one even know, if it is love for thee they are feeling?
Some lovers, are love drunk all the time, but once awoken, with hatred they are dealing. Is that the irony of love? or is it the lust of the flesh, that kept you wheeling?
You can’t blame love, for what you do, if not for love, life would not be appealing. It is this four letter word, when truly felt, to every soul, will bring healing. Other than that, all words are simply to your heart teasing.
Your heart may have many beats, but only one tune, will leave you kneeling. Look for what I call a wise love, and set aside, what to your eyes may seem pleasing. The painting, that is today flamboyant, tomorrow will be dull and displeasing.
Saleh Ben Saleh
Love
Is not about being
Loved
When spring is in full swing.
Love
Is not about returning
Love
In early or late spring.
......
The first one is for laughter
And infinite romance.
For smiling and for hugging
For giving me a chance.
The second is for hope;
And longing for tomorrow.
She opens up this heart
Whenever we face sorrow.
......