The heart within my heart had called
And I keenly fell

Leaning to the mountains of your stillness
And basking in the streams of your trust
I echoed

It was the pull in my marrow
That triggered
The inner prompting

My heart kept pounding
As you called
Our gaze to meet

The locked gaze
Struck me by lightning;
I had to look away

In the drift of my life
How long I felt
Trepidation and dread
To take this path

But the call for the soul
Whirled around
Clamoring lust
Within me

That Astounding call
Of body and soul
Bit the fruit of life
Deep within me,
Capitulated me
And marked me
Decisively yours

A special dedication: ya asmar 7obak ganani for Nagwa Karam


6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Rawand
    May 21, 2005 @ 09:17:00

    lol, I hear you sis. sej elsomer moshkila.


  2. AyyA
    May 21, 2005 @ 13:25:00

    Moshkila wi bas, moseeba 🙂


  3. Playa Hater
    May 21, 2005 @ 16:58:00

    You know the two lovers in the poem finally got together and got married and after a while the female died and was buried, and in her hole in the ground she heard digging. Someone was digging on her grave…..

    ‘Ah, are you digging on my grave
    My loved one? planting rue?’
    ‘No: yesterday he went to wed
    One of the brightest wealth has bred.
    “It cannot hurt her now”, he said,
    “That I should not be true.”

    ‘Then who is digging on my grave?
    My nearest dearest kin?’
    ‘Ah, no; they sit and think, “What use!
    What good will planting flowers produce?
    No tendance of her mound can loose
    Her spirit from Death’s gin.”

    ‘But some one digs upon my grave?
    My enemy? prodding sly?’
    ‘Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate
    That shuts on all flesh soon or late,
    She thought you no more worth her hate,
    And cares not where you lie.’

    ‘Then, who is digging on my grave?
    Say since I have not guessed !’
    ‘O it is I, my mistress dear,
    Your little dog, who still lives near,
    And much I hope my movements here
    Have not disturbed your rest?’

    ‘Ah, yes! You dig upon my grave . . .
    Why flashed it not on me
    That one true heart was left behind!
    What feeling do we ever find
    To equal among human kind
    A dog’s fidelity !’

    ‘Mistress, I dug upon your grave
    To bury a bone, in case
    I should be hungry near this spot
    When passing on my daily trot.
    I am sorry, but I quite forgot
    It was your resting-place.’

    Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)


  4. AyyA
    May 21, 2005 @ 22:36:00

    Playa Hater

    That’s a good reason not to marry your loved one 😉
    Welcome aboard


  5. The Expert
    May 22, 2005 @ 15:40:00


    Billy Said:

    If I Knew

    If I knew how to write a song
    I’d write one everyday
    It would say that I’m in love with you
    And why I feel this way

    It would have to say you’re pretty
    And as rare as a desert rose
    It would say you’re a looker
    From your head down to your toes

    You are funny, dainty, fragile
    And as feminine as can be
    You’re smart charming lovely
    And everything to me

    You’re the orchard in the jungle,
    you’re the better half of me
    You’re all of this and so much more,
    you mean the world to me

    Still so much is left unsaid,
    It would take me far to long
    I know how much I love you,
    If only I could write a song.


  6. AyyA
    May 23, 2005 @ 00:24:00

    Thank you Expert, and as usual your presence adds flavor to my poetic gathering, loved the poem you posted. Thanks for taking the time. I read it may be five times, and mind you I always go back and read through my old postings and comments, and having this poem posted made me really happy for it to be stored in a permanent space where I can always go back to. Thanks again dear for sharing.


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