“The Nostalgic Depth”

Into The Poem: This poem is my exclusive extrusion into the depth of romanticism. Simple dedication to the one who has been there through each and every walk of my life. Hope you like it. If worth appealing do leave a comment and don't forget to click on the share button.

The blue vault above, the unclouded sky,

The depth of the ocean and their uncensored cry,

All Things benign, and those wings that fly,

Seem to sing a tune for a dainty angel;

The angel of my dreams, my love, my ably. 

 My frozen beats have shifted their course,

It’s a year since they have released and dropped,

Dropped on her sweet lake of untiring eyes,

For her eyes that quench my thirst at core,

And the lids that spray the fountain of care.

The glamour of pink fused with her lip’s heavenly smile,

Conceal my soul as if surrendered to life,

And crown my lips, as to them, it rub.

For her lips once gifted a flavoured kiss,

And drowned my temptations onto their depth.

I felt her breath, below my neck,

As I hugged her bodice with a pleasant reck;

The fragrance of her skin Felt alike mosaic perfume.

The grid of her arms shrined deep passionate love,

For our hearts that touched, and fused, and glued.

The things undone and the things to be done,

Will carve a blanket on us and turmoil be shunned,

Just me and the core of her, once a startled soul,

Shall shuffle our love, shuttle the once enslaved dreams,

And Azure our minds and release its debt.

They said ,”If people are truly and deeply and madly in love,

They’ll find a route, they’ll find their way.”

The Fruition of enslaved dreams shall breathe in life,

Just wait for the moments to dip and sink in time.

I sense a future weaved with love, in which I’m yours and you’re mine.

                                                                                                            - Rukshan Ur Rahman

 Rahman

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