The heart within my heart had called
And I keenly fell
Headlong
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
Response
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
The Ultimate 
May 21, 2005 @ 09:17:00
lol, I hear you sis. sej elsomer moshkila.
May 21, 2005 @ 13:25:00
Moshkila wi bas, moseeba 🙂
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?’
‘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)
May 21, 2005 @ 22:36:00
Playa Hater
That’s a good reason not to marry your loved one 😉
Welcome aboard
May 22, 2005 @ 15:40:00
WONDERFUL…. WONDERFUL…
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.
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.