To the Girl that marveled me with her words…To the Queen of love I
I heard a whisper, down in the east,
Telling the story of a broken nest;
Ramble of a soul, seeking for a rest,
Murmur of the time, love is never lost.
There is a bloom, that does not fade,
Not found in Eden, nor glow of Jade;
It is a blossom that roots in love,
Roses and lilac in the sky above.
Sultan of the names, the Queen of love,
Eyes of gazelle, the blink of a dove;
Moon of the smiles, in a clear night,
Heart full of love, to forever bright.
Sitting at her window, gone with her mind,
Curly black hair, unique in her kind;
Round of the face, traces of a sorrow,
Away with her dreams, flying in tomorrow.
A suitcase in a corner, lonely in her room,
Waiting for the rise, hushed praying her doom;
Eyes in the sky, Yovna star of my Queen,
Early in her trip, at station sixteen.
She loved true, pouring all her tide,
Gave him the best from a deep pride;
Failed her trust, dumped her to sears,
Leaving the rest, to a flow of tears.
To ever he shall vanish, in hell he shall burn,
On him she put a spell, never he will return;
A dance from the stars, singing her a tune,
Her fate yet to claim, the Queen of her throne.
Her love a word of honor, no fickle no tweak,
Her liver knows the fire, her heart a single seat;
Ears on her door, waiting for her knight,
A trip on her wish, a blast into the bright.
In the day of twenty-two, month of December,
Two of the thousand, five made the lumber;
A story of my Queen, words made the ample,
Her love is her truth, a mark on her temple.
Yovna: A star where I beleave all ma family members souls will converge.
The QUEEN OF LOVE is a 16 years old girl somewhere in the middle east, the space of whom can be found here: http://spaces.msn.com/members/shoosh21/
She was dumped in her true deep love and, seeking for a beam of hope, she sprays magic words in her Blog. It is in Arabic and that is why I came up with these few words to take her voice beyond the language barriers.