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Love Poems Quotes

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Love Poems Quotes

“Who is who? In the silence that sinks into you, In the seclusion that excludes you, You begin to realise without her you are not you, And you begin to believe in her more than you do in you, Wherever you might be, her thoughts seem stubbornly pervasive, And in this state of her pervasiveness you let her memories become invasive, And now you are no more you and this happens to you in phases successive, Now everything appears yonder and so inconclusive, But you love her because now she is a part of you, You exist in her and not in you, Even your heart revolts as it begins to beat for her and not for you, You no longer exist in days or months, you just exist in moments where you wonder without her what are you? In life everything seems pertinent because you have evolved into a poker face, Because no matter how hard you try, in the mirror, in your own reflection you see her face, A sort of a purgatory for true lover’s face, Where through some intermediary grace you now kiss her face, Because now it is difficult to tell who is who, Whether it is you, it is her, and you wonder who can tell; who? After struggling to define who is who, You let her face, her memories, her feelings, her heart beats define you. Because this is who you are, the real you! So let me love you Irma with this poker face, And see if you can find the grace in this superimposed face, And when million reflections are cast in the mirror of life let me see if you can identify the face, That loved you for your beautiful heart and your inward grace!”

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“Desert rose! Like the traveler who wants to go everywhere, Like the sunshine that falls on everything, I want to travel too, but in one direction, that can be anywhere, As long as it leads to you, because without you, the world means nothing, Like the desert I want to spread endlessly, Like the wind I desire to be free, And chase your mirages over sand dunes tirelessly, And then wherever you are, there I shall be, Like the desert let your love be clear and unobstructed, Like the calm of the desert let us spread everywhere, Then in this desert let everything else be restricted, Because I want it to be your representation everywhere, Like an oasis oozing from the bosom of the desert, Like the mirage of water to a thirsty desert wanderer on a hot day, Let your love just one feeling assert, That like an oasis you will flow through me everyday, Like the beautiful desert rose, Like the endless desert, Let your feelings of love within me repose, As I slowly, but surely into your devout disciple convert, Like it first my love, before you begin to love it, Like the desert rose then let me love you, And finally as I, my soul to you shall submit, Let me see the desert, the oasis and the desert rose, and eternity in you!”

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“Broken boat! The small boat was anchored, where the lake ended, It stood there over the water and nothing at all pretended, The silently lapping water showed no hurry, Just like the still boat that today had no reason to worry, The boat, the water, everything appeared to be at ease, They had no reason to rush, and nobody to please, Just themselves and their anchored state, That steadfastly cast them into this feeling of never being tired to wait, Wait for the sunrise, wait for the moon rise, wait for the morning, Wait for the boatman, wait for a new wave, wait for the birds to sing, It seemed the boat and the lake could wait forever and for everything, And just like the boat I too waited for someone, that feeling beautiful, that special something, The lake spreads far and wide, And the boat stands anchored between this divide, To wait or to drift at the wind’s will, The prospect is attractive but the boat has a promise to fulfill, Towards the boatman, towards the anchor, towards the lake too, And towards something or maybe someone, nobody knows who, Maybe it is her secret affair, With the shore, with the security it offers her, While she is romancing the shore and it erotically kisses her hull, And an onlooker like me feels she wants to break free from this life so dull, But maybe she does not regard the weight of the anchor to be a boundation, For it holds her close to the erotic shore and it's wet and muddy sensation, As time passes by, the boat begins to rot, The kiss of the shore that enticed her and felt so hot, Was actually fooling her to feel what was not real, By the time the boat realised the kiss of the shore was unreal, The hull of the boat had perforated and crumbled, And as it lay there in this state of uselessness and now humbled, The shore no longer kissed it, Because now a new boat stood anchored there, and the shore was erotically kissing it, The boat has decomposed, and its wood drifts freely in the lake now, And it wanders endlessly to seek that real feeling of love, But in pieces, one here, one there, one somewhere unknown, In pieces trying to find love that it never had actually felt or known, So, whenever I see a broken piece of a boat, I think of you my love, and then with these pieces I and my feelings float, Where? Only every broken piece of the boat can tell, But unlike the boat, I feel our love is real and it is for nobody except us to judge and tell!”

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“Anyway! Like a memory she does not travel, She just stays in the mind of everything, A feeling that is abysmal and at the same time makes you feel well, Almost like experiencing everything but feeling nothing, But her thoughts and her memories remain intact, A love affair of a different kind maybe, Where infinity is the witness and love that lasts for eternity is the pact, There is no other way for it to exist maybe, Or it could be my predilection towards her memories, That makes everything else less preeminent, And gradually one loses interest in all worldly stories, Because her thought is still fresh and omnipresent, Like a flower that you come to admire in Summer, And you wait for the seasons to pass by, To witness this flower again in the new Summer, There, anticipating and waiting you lie, Not for the Summer, but for the flower, And how unnecessary everything else seems, Almost like a desperate lover, Whose heart often her name screams, But the yearnings of heart are silent, And no matter how much it cries or screams everyday, It has no audience, except the helpless firmament, Where it is heard, but it can't do anything to help it anyway!”

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“Forever my love! Patterns of her vogue, manifest in everything, The long nights and the sunny days, A thing not influenced by her, there is almost nothing, The feelings are visceral as I think of her sweet ways, But these are not patterns you can see, They are beyond what meets the eye, A feeling vanquished from the territory of mind and cast into the sea, Sea of feelings floating in the boundaries of the heart and lodged in the eye, The eye of the lover, who is least vindictive, Where dreams are the same, every sight is the same, For other than her memories and nothing is more addictive, As long as the heart is caught in this game, But time the greatest swindler and the most gracious as well, Steals what two lovers wish so dearly to preserve, For it has no love story of its own to tell, So in the stocks of past moments our love stories it does conserve, And as I dream of her and her ways, Time waits for my dream to end, It has stood there now for a million days, For I, with my every heart beat, my love for her defend, So whenever a moment escapes to be lost forever, I store its essences in my memory, And for the time I replay it again and again, creating a moment called forever, So I trick time and trap it in a moment that was meant to be temporary, And here I am loving her in a moment that shall never end, Time is waiting, and maybe it will be in this state forever, While my memories to my heart, numerous moments of joys lend, I become part of a beautiful dream that eventually will continue forever!”

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“Love, she and me! She stood there waiting, And being an admirer of hers I thought she was waiting for me, She brushed her hair sideways, And like others I thought she was doing it for me, She walked with grace and well measured steps, And I thought she was walking towards me, She smiled and her shimmering lips parted slowly, And I thought they parted and shimmered to kiss me, She knelt a bit and looked at the ground, And I felt she was looking at my shadow and then at me, She spoke of some wonderful experiences she had, And I thought they were all due to me, She raised her eyes to stare at the midday Sun, And I felt in its gleaming rays she was discovering me, She called someone haply, And I wished if it were me, just me, She traveled to some favourite destination, And I wished if it were me, She confessed her heart gives rise to endless desires, And I so deeply wished, all her desires led to me, just me, She looked at the starry night and and closed her eyes to dream, How I wished all her dreams were about me, In the morning she woke up with fresh smile, And I hoped the smile always flashes only when she thinks of me, Then she ventured into the affairs of the day, And I wished her every step brought her closer to me, She often said her prayers and thought about God, And how I wished that her God thought of me, She was carrying a bouquet of roses yesterday, And I wondered for whom could it be? And wished it were for me, Then she walked away holding just one rose in her hand, And I hoped she dropped it in front of me, It is afternoon and she is walking towards me, Maybe it is just my imagination because I feel her true joy lies in being with me, But who cares whether it is my imagination or something I so deeply wish for me, That I want to love her, and spend the days thinking that she only loves me, She has walked by so many times, But she has never walked towards me, It is a dilemma alike the day and the night, where one would never know whether the day seeks night or the night seeks the day, So whenever she walks past me, I convince my heart she was walking towards me, A decade has passed and her mere glimpse still gladdens me, But today she walked up to me and said, “do you like me or you love me?” I stood there speechless, not that my feelings have turned numb, but my words were failing me, But somehow I managed to say, “I love you more than me!”

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“Love, she and me! She stood there waiting, And being an admirer of hers I thought she was waiting for me, She brushed her hair sideways, And like others I thought she was doing it for me, She walked with grace and well measured steps, And I thought she was walking towards me, She smiled and her shimmering lips parted slowly, And I thought they parted and shimmered to kiss me, She knelt a bit and looked at the ground, And I felt she was looking at my shadow and then at me, She spoke of some wonderful experiences she had, And I thought they were all due to me, She raised her eyes to stare at the midday Sun, And I felt in its gleaming rays she was discovering me, She called someone haply, And I wished if it were me, just me, She traveled to some favourite destination, And I wished if it were me, She confessed her heart gives rise to endless desires, And I so deeply wished, all her desires led to me, just me, She looked at the starry night and closed her eyes to dream, How I wished all her dreams were about me, In the morning she woke up with fresh smile, And I hoped the smile always flashes only when she thinks of me, Then she ventured into the affairs of the day, And I wished her every step brought her closer to me, She often said her prayers and thought about God, And how I wished that her God thought of me, She was carrying a bouquet of roses yesterday, And I wondered for whom could it be? And wished it were for me, Then she walked away holding just one rose in her hand, And I hoped she dropped it in front of me, It is afternoon and she is walking towards me, Maybe it is just my imagination because I feel her true joy lies in being with me, But who cares whether it is my imagination or something I so deeply wish for me, That I want to love her, and spend the days thinking that she only loves me, She has walked by so many times, But she has never walked towards me, It is a dilemma alike the day and the night, where one would never know whether the day seeks night or the night seeks the day, So whenever she walks past me, I convince my heart she was walking towards me, A decade has passed and her mere glimpse still gladdens me, But today she walked up to me and said, “do you like me or you love me?” I stood there speechless, not that my feelings have turned numb, but my words were failing me, But somehow I managed to say, “I love you more than me!”

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“She! The gaze of night fell on her, She looked towards the moon, As I walked closer to her, As did the silver brightness of the Moon, Covering her in her silver attire, I stopped to witness the wonder that she was, Wearing the Moon’s silver attire, She looked more graceful than she already was, Then in the distance, the wind kissed few flowers, And bearing their scent it kissed her everywhere too, Now she smelled lovelier than all the flowers, And the most fragrant, wild roses too, The night grew darker and the moon grew brighter, And she shone like the sparkling, silver coloured gem, When she smiled, trust me nothing could look brighter, Than her eyes that bore the brilliance of the most resplendent gem, Sometimes when wind appeared around her to renew her scents, It ruffled her hair like a lover who is little shy, But tonight she shone with the beauty of nature’s bliss and its scents, While I with the night gaze looked at her bewildered, but least shy, So I held her hand, as the birds, for her, their songs of love sang, She looked at me and smiled, while gently winking her eyes, Where I captured the beauty of the skies, and then our hearts together sang, While I dived into her eyes and she finally accepted to forever dwell in my eyes, So I do not sleep now because there is no need to dream, Her dreams, her imaginations and memories bearing her scenes, Because in my eyes she lives like a beautiful sensation, that is missing in a dream, So if you see me awake during the nights, I am somewhere with her in my eyes, discovering her beauty’s endless scenes!”

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“Painting of love This afternoon I saw a painting hanging on the wall, It was of a maiden in the prime of her beauty, The background was painted in rainbow colours, one and all, I had every reason to admire the artists sagacity, Her form looked perfect worthy of every appreciation, Her eyes interacted with mine, Her lips had a strong and intense red sensation, And from her arose feelings divine, Although she was just a portrait, A still painting hanging on the even more still wall, She was a feeling that moved through eyes into the heart without any freight, And in me, just like other mesmerised onlookers, she did feelings of “life in love” install, Maybe I only felt so, maybe I wanted to feel so, Because her eyes, her form, her everything reminded me of someone, And I imagined her in this painting on the wall, and I allowed my mind to believe so, As long as she did not remind me of anyone, or everyone, but just her, my special someone, So I sat there looking at the painting on the wall, I admired the salient aspects of her colourful beauty, And now I too was still, still like the painting and still like the dead wall, Now, not the painting, but the stillness it exuded had become my new propensity, Like a flower that is beautiful in the presence of the beauty that holds itself within it so still, A state where all conflicts are exhumed and everything that represents profanity dies, That is when this painting my heart does with million joys fill, And recreates her colourful visions within me, and now my life just on them relies, So, I often visit the painting on the wall, still hanging there, And maybe it will be so always, Until one day I find it everywhere, Because I wish to love her in a million ways!”

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“Painting of love This afternoon I saw a painting hanging on the wall, It was of a maiden in the prime of her beauty, The background was painted in rainbow colours, one and all, I had every reason to admire the artists sagacity, Her form looked perfect worthy of every appreciation, Her eyes interacted with mine, Her lips had a strong and intense red sensation, And from her arose feelings divine, Although it was just a portrait, A still painting hanging on the still wall, She was a feeling that moved through eyes into the heart without any freight, And in me, just like other mesmerised onlookers, she did feelings of life and love install, Maybe I only felt so, maybe I wanted to feel so, Because her eyes, her form, her everything reminded me of someone, And I imagined her in this painting on the wall, and I allowed my mind to believe so, As long as she did not remind me of anyone, or everyone, but just her, my special someone, So I sat there looking at the painting on the wall, I admired the salient aspects of her colourful beauty, And now I too was still, still like the painting and still like the dead wall, Now, not the painting, but the stillness it exuded had become my new propensity, Like a flower that is beautiful in the presence of the beauty that holds itself within it so still, A state where all conflicts are exhumed and everything that represents profanity dies, That is when this painting with million joys my heart fills in the life’s unforgiving mill, And recreates her colourful visions within me, and now my life just on them relies, So, I often visit the painting on the wall, still hanging there, And maybe it will be so always, Until one day I find it everywhere, Because I wish to love her in a million ways, in the narrow lanes, on the byways and all the highways!”

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“You and everything! Everything and everyone can wait, As long as you are with me it is never late, For it is the Summer flowers that ought to worry, Because winter always seems to arrive in a hurry, But when you are beside me, who cares whether it is summer or winter, For we can create anything as long as we are together, So let the Sun rise Irma, and let it set, let the Moon shine and disappear, Because in your presence anything can reappear, Let it be night forever or a day that never ends, Because around you and for you everything without any hesitation bends, Let the world incriminate me for my belief, As long as you love me, I need not know or feel any other form of relief, Let the world pray to the Gods or who cares if it is a Godless world, Because in my universe there is a Goddess who creates for me a truly God fearing world, So, let everything end, or let everything begin, For when I am with you, I care not, whether I lose or win!”

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“Your feelings In a place where there is nothing to seek, Where your scent is the only worth pursuing streak, Of memories, of feelings, of old times, of you and me, A place where there is nothing to seek, yet you can be and I can be, A wandering feeling roaming the vastness of this emotion, Where everything is held intact by your memories and their notion, And in this feeling I lie wrapped within your warm feelings, As the emotion grows intense, I then am reduced to nothing, but just a scent of your feelings, It is a beautiful place, that is calm and too quiet, The same place, where we had held hands and walked and met, Not somebody, but each other, you and me, But now the quiet looms all over, there is just the memories, the feelings, all still alive within me, I often walk in this wilderness of emotions and memories, And I feel questioned by the rustling leaves of the autumn trees, As if they seek your whereabouts in me, in my eyes, in my gestures, But all my memories are signatures of our moments of togetherness, experienced in the vastness of the life’s pastures, Where today many flowers bloom everywhere, They all bear your scent, your colours, but you are nowhere, However, these flowers last forever, and thus they feed my relentless wanderings, And there my love Irma you somehow appear everywhere, and I repose occupied by your wonderings!”

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“Illusions of a lover! Illusions have neither a past nor any present, They always seem to hang in the moments of the future, For when experienced one never knows what they mean or represent, But they always arise from the person’s conscience and the stature, As for those who are in love everything is an illusion, When with her even real appears more real, When not with her even real seems unreal, a sort of hallucination, A dawn of new reality where everything is surreal, Only her smiles, her charms, her kisses, and her deep eyes exist, And the heart seeks its indulgences in them, And ah how much like a wanton kid it does persist, To only chase her, and seek her as if she were the most precious gem, The sun peeps in from the still and motionless curtains, And the weary eyes open hoping its rays will bring her along, But then everything drowns in the loud calls of martins, Until every sound resembles her voice and her beautiful song, Then nothing exists, neither the Sun, nor the curtains, and not even martins, Only your song and your endless memories, And the heart dutifully warbles to mind these emotional bulletins, So, I rest my head on a pile of your feelings and bid farewell to all my worries! And now it is me and your feelings spread all over, The heart stops beating, the mind stops to think, For now Irma, begins the journey called forever, Where moments do not pass as eyes blink, Because the heart does not beat and the mind does not think, Making time irrelevant and unnecessary, And as in this moment called forever we sink, We now only seek what is necessary, You, your memories, your charms and your smiles, As this restful state extends into eternity, It marks an end of life’s tribulations and trials, Because now your feelings envelope me to create a new feeling of serenity!”

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“Let it! It was lingering still in the air, Like a moment in time that refused to go anywhere, Her scent, and with it she seemed to spread everywhere, My heart had found her, though my eyes kept asking, “where, where?” The matters of heart that mind never comprehends, So to oblige the heart mind too pretends, And to oblige heart’s every wish now it its own logic bends, And ah the irony, that the heart in love never pretends, So I have to convince my eyes, my sense of touch, all senses of mine, To learn to be patient and wait like an aging bottle of wine, If they were to taste the feelings of love refined and fine, They better know it is the dear heart of mine, And if it seeks her in everything, Let it be so, and let it spare nothing, For it is the heart’s matter, the heart’s thing, Where sometimes, something resembles everything, Right now let it find some peace in just imagining about her, Let it behind the shadows romance her, Amble with her and serenade her, Maybe she is yet to accept that it loves her, just her!”

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“Mind and the streets! In the streets and across the lanes, Where eye of the mind its every faculty trains, The body sometimes seems marooned and vilified, By the mind whose every quest it defied, Because the body travels through these lanes and streets, Obeying the will of mind without seeking any treats, But sometimes the body begins to question why, Shall it be the one that always has to undergo the agony and yet never be able to defy, So, it develops a liking for the dutifully beating heart, That obeys the mind till its end, right from the very start, And slowly the mind senses the revolt seeking the form of an uprising, And it tames the body in ways strange and surprising, In the final attempt the body treats the heart as its central mind, Then the body is everywhere, and now the only thing you cannot find is the ever scheming and cunning mind! So the body lives happily with the heart, As the mind gradually knows its actual place and its influence begins to wane and depart!”

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“Love me Irma! Love me today love me tomorrow, Love me now and love me then, Love me when I wish not to be touched by sorrow, Love me when I want to be felt by you, my darling woman, Love me when the Sun has set, Love me when the Moon shines in the sky, Love me with your lips wet, Love me often and not just by and by, Love me here and there too, Love me for who I am and let me love you for who you are, Love me everywhere or wherever you want to, Love me in times of peace and love me the same in war, Love me when I am tired and sleepy, Love me when the Sun rays dance upon me, Love me true and love me deeply, For that is how I wish you to love me!”

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“You and your thoughts! The vagueness of the future, the memories of yesterday and the promises of today, Remind me of you, everyday, and whenever it is today, In the last moment of wakeful mind before falling asleep, It is you I think of and you I dream of when I am fast asleep, In the view of the busy and at times relaxed world and the perspectives thereof, I look for you in everything, in its corners, in its open spaces, and live off the memories thereof, In the mind’s silence and in the heart’s endless beatings to keep kissing life, I listen to them both while thinking of you in my every passing moment of life, In the present that rushes to meet the future and shorten my span of dreams and desires, I smile silently because it does not know my life is but an endless bloom of your memories and your desires, In this moment while I am thinking of you Irma and my mind weaves a tapestry of known feelings, I wish you knew, I wish you realised, that all of them are our feelings, those beautiful bygone feelings, In the moments when I exist and yet feel maybe I don’t at all belong in the present, I roll my memories, I wrap my desires, and I slumber in the past, where you and your feelings are the only present! In this state I never realise when it is midday, when it is night and when it is today, Because now you become my only dream, my only memory, my only feeling and an everlasting today!”

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“She is my purpose! Wandering along the pavement, Trying to find an agreement, Between my pragmatic mind and a romantic heart, And sometimes knowing not where to end and when to start, I let the wanderings continue, maybe forever, Because I am yet to reach a place called, nowhere, That infact is somewhere, But not in the vicinities of places known by me as here and there, So, I let myself love her for now, think of her for now, And believe in our love and its vow, And this revives my peace, maybe it does, Just for a moment, just for a while it does, Maybe it is in this moment I become oblivious to this place called nowhere, Because when I am with her, I just wish to be here, just here, And when she leaves, forever turns into never, and somewhere into nowhere, Then, though I am somewhere, I am still nowhere, still nowhere, So before seeking this place of bliss, Let me seek her and her kiss, Because it is then that everything assumes meaning and purpose, And it is then that my heart in the curiosity of my mind does find a worthwhile purpose!”

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“With her! Today and at the moment right now, But soon, nowhere and no more now, That is how she loves me, Always now, but in a moment nowhere to be, Today dreaming about yesterday, Where tomorrow is never meant to be today, An un-ending streak of yesterdays and todays, Where she is nothing more than the memory of the bygone days, And how the memories flashback in every passing moment, Reminding me of her and her seductive scent, As she flashes before my eyes, I curse my helplessness because I cannot hold her despite my million tries, Then something within me cries and slowly dies, And in this permanent visual fixation now my heart lies!”

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“Your summer! Like the Summer that resides in everything, That in Spring sprouted from nowhere and today is the most beautiful thing, The Summer of beautiful imaginations, Where your thoughts are the Summer like sensations, That grow over me from everywhere, And I often think of you whether I am everywhere or just somewhere, Like the Summer that spreads and grows profound, In you all my joys I have found, So let the seasons pass and redefine beauty’s sensations, In you I shall always discover beauty’s original passions and feel its true realisations. But for now let me enjoy this Summer and your presence, And bathe in your every essence!”

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“As We Sail By We float Through purple velvet skies Out where, black holes are born And the Milky-Way dies We fly Through purple hazed skies Out where, nebulas fade And an apricot sun spies We coast Through purple blue skies Out where, the platinum moon sits and Supernovas explode as we sail by Excerpt from: Exegesis, a Decade of Poetry, by Mekael © Mekael Shane 2009”

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“Suppose That I'm Inevitable Suppose that I'm inevitable Even the veins of my right hand Cross you from the drafts. On my smooth nails The breeze Which is not from the sky Is curving you Either the veins of my right hand Is running short On my pulse. Rolled along my fingers Vanished Not repeated forever For the second. I'm a half Since the first. The veins of my neck cross you all. If the warmth of my ten fingers Seized on your torn pieces of breath All is over With the dead-end alleys all in oblivion. (TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL PERSIAN INTO ENGLISH BY ROSA JAMALI)”

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Book:Selected Poems of Rosa Jamali
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“Like A Hanged Pitcher Like a hanged pitcher, No drink is pouring off me It's natural to get numbed gradually. Pig-headed seashells! This boasting sky, Is an anchor which has fallen on my lap This dizzy sky! The moon's been cleared A shadow's coming after me Barefooted on my dreams You used to run! Enjoyed?! Numb! All my veins are connected to this land... Like a hanged pitcher Joyful of this sky One day a huge whale swallowed it as a whole. And it was over! The Gulf was over! You waved hands. Like a hanged pitcher, It's simple! I lost the game And gambled away... (TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL PERSIAN TO ENGLISH BY ROSA JAMALI)”

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Book:Selected Poems of Rosa Jamali
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“How to Prove my love” In the shadows of night, my heart does confide, Tell me, oh tell me, how to prove my love's guide. In this world of doubts, how do I find my way? Show me a path, where my love can truly sway. The stars above witness my love's pure decree, But how do I prove it, if no one believes me? Guide me, oh guide me, in this love's lonely chase, How do I prove my love in this endless race? My heart's true desire, a love that won't cease, But how do I prove it, and find my heart's peace? So tell me, dear soul, the way to love's release, How do I prove my love, and let my heart find peace?”

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Author:Janid Kashmiri
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“Flower in love The flower to the butterfly, Where do you always come from? Why do you always fly? And where do your wings get these colourful patterns from? She flew away without any reply, For she had a known flower to kiss, And his yesterday’s queries to reply, And then offer him a passionate kiss, There, poised on the flower that she knew, She spread her wings over its petals, It was a feeling that the flower knew, As the butterfly’s colours kissed its petals, Under the cover of her wings, They romanced in the light of love, And what a wonder it became to see a flower kissed by open butterfly wings, The symbol of two conflict free beings in total love, Beauty pressed over beauty, and covered in love, As the sunlight enveloped them in the shimmer of the pure light, The flower fell in love and the butterfly experienced love, And then it flew in the direction of the light, And I watched her flapping her wings hurriedly, As she shed her dust of colourful beauty over the flower in love, She became a part of this pure light almost hurriedly, And now it is the permanent delight for the light kissed flower, who too finally experienced love!”

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Book:They Loved in 2075!
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“You may not be talking with each other. But that does not mean that you have stopped caring for her. She is capable of taking decisions for herself. She is capable of facing life all by herself. You want her to be free. You want her to find her own way. Just once in a while, let her know that you still care for her.”

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Author:Avijeet Das
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“Put down your glass, it is time to dance. If you want to get drunk all you need is to drink love. Put down your pipe and do away with these childish toys. If you want to get high all you need is to breathe love. Now, can I have this dance?”

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Author:Kamand Kojouri
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“Come into my world. I will show you the phenomenon that Stendhal experienced. I will help you feel the cascading arpeggios of Wagner's overture. I will dance to Doga’s waltzes with you. A day spent without appreciating the beauty surrounding us is a waste. Let me appreciate you”

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Author:Kamand Kojouri
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“Like a child who saves their favourite food on the plate for last, I try to save all thoughts of you for the end of the day so I can dream with the taste of you on my tongue.”

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Author:Kamand Kojouri
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“My Angel Sleeps by Stewart Stafford My angel sleeps, do not disturb, Painless and gorgeous in repose, In resting flight, I still see her, Her embryonic features now froze. Many times, she called me father, And hastened me to her side, Entwined as one, no one to part us, Now, the earth's youthful bride. Let me cast more soil upon you, To soften your final resting place, My heart's core I leave with you, To claim back when face to face. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“Last night, I repeated your name like a mantra before falling asleep. Somehow the simple pleasure of uttering your name, and the added pleasure of hearing your name was heaven for me and I didn’t go to bed until dawn. Isn’t it odd how your name, a single word associated with you, can bring another person such joy that they inflict insomnia upon themselves and call it a blessing?”

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Author:Kamand Kojouri
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