Photo Source(https://pixabay.com/photos/young-woman-meadow-grass-nature-4488313/)
The fire sun comes out burning coldly,
Kissing the mountain top as it ascends it trail,
Coating the earth in silk wakefulness,
And the birds singing to herald the enthronement of the king of the day,
The tree squirrel peeping out of it nest,
To smell the freshness of the queenly breeze,
And behold the blushing face of the ripened nuts.
Gazelles move on in pairs,
Stepping daintily on the green turf,
As the pure dewy grass greases their hooves,
And keep them glistering like gems.
The dove coos softly,
Pecking on the cheek of it companion,
As they perch astride the branch of peace.
But i wake up to the slow beating of my heart,
It rhythm playing toneless lyrics,
And the dancing veins shaking in gloom.
Long have i waited,
For a perfect drummer to the drum of my heart,
And a piper for my love-draught soul.
My heart has tarried so long,
In the arid land of the unloved,
And has longed to flow,
Like the dead pool of the salt sea.
Lo! I will wait on the field,
And keep staring at the sunrise,
Maybe someday,
It will awakened my lover in it wake,
And set its red ball of flame,
Beyond the sea of my merry heart.