20 February 2011


My darling, ever since that day I first saw your pretty face, I have yearned for you in secret silence throughout my nights.

Tell me…how can a painting manifest its beauty with you inside it, while holding living flowers swaying with joy beneath your sensuous smile?

Did you know the emblem of love can never be seen, but is truly felt because of its divine relationship with the heart?

I am the comforting hand caressing the sorrow of spring after its tears fail to rejuvenate the barren soil gently holding flowers of beauty in your lovely image.

In your eyes, I am privileged to see the flames of romance surrendering their warmth upon the heart of a humble man like me.

Lady Flower, you are like the temperature of summer - harvesting the crops of happiness in my heart, which will eventually give birth to sweet love.

You are also like the beauty of autumn - shedding her sacredness upon my soul with the fruits of passion as I love you with faithful emotions into the great winters of life.

*Modified image by Alfons Mucha, wikimedia.org


12 February 2011


Every expression of your thoughts upon paper moves me with deep emotions to fashion my own writings so they are in harmony with yours.

Your silent whisper pleasantly creates the most beautiful sentences before my welcoming eyes.

In amongst your soul and mine, there are unread poems lying deep beneath the soil of our hearts, patiently waiting to be read by the lovers within.

My darling, this literary friendship has created dancing flowers between us and has even published our works before the eyes of earthling angels.

You are the poetess under the stillness of a lonely night who has captured my heart with the melodious words I longed to read during the early years of my youth.

Precious friend, kindly rescue me from this lonesomeness with your smile and let me continue reading the manuscripts of divine love from your tender heart.

In return, my beautiful poetess, your feminine allure permeates my heart with so much love that every time I embrace your work, I fall apart…into a million pieces of breathless desire.

*Modified image by Ivan Kramskoy, wikipaintings.org


09 February 2011


My darling, you are more beautiful than the verses of love within my humble, nostalgic poems.

Tell me…what else can I give to you, except this unconditional love from my heart?

Beneath the flowers of the heart, the silence among their beauty can be heard through the open eyes of two lovers looking at each other.

Sit with me before a holy fire and allow yourself to become mesmerized by the enchantment of our hearts, as we reach for the same pleasurable desires.

Who can really solve the mysterious riddles of love, when they keep the heart spellbound, through open eyes staring into a lonely mirror?

In your courtyard, let me be the one to stand beside you, as you water the flowers of freedom living to beautify your world.

With deep love is how I look at you through open eyes and when they are closed, I still see your beautiful face granting me all of my heavenly wishes.

My darling, just like a picture of words expresses sweet love in the absolute sense, so my poems are revealed to you...through open eyes.

*Modified artwork by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, wikipaintings.org
Sharing with: Thursday Poets' Rally Wk44-Wk44 Perfect Poet Award


04 February 2011


Sleeping in the hands of a lovely maiden, a fallen flower reminded me of the tenderness between beauty and a quiet death.

The words hiding in a poet's heart are eventually born upon paper, only to be revealed before the reader's  eyes, as he/she gets a glimpse of the jewels in the crown of his emotions.

The soft lips of the wind kissed my face with kindness as I viewed the image of this beautiful maiden returning my gaze with a smile.

The vocabulary between us was wordless, but the echo in our hearts was filled with romantic thoughts illuminating the night.

Sitting by a graceful rivulet, I could feel the beauty of her spirit piercing my heart with the feminine sweetness of a lonely woman.

Even though her eyes were wet with tears from the demise of an unfortunate flower, they also welcomed me to join her in this moment of human compassion.

She knew she would find words of comfort and love in a poet's heart, after he had written them with a trembling hand for lonely hearts to read.

*Modified image by ~ John William Waterhouse, wikipaintings.org