Lovers on a Broken Canoe


My lover, my friend.

As the day speedily expires,

Thoughts of you besiege me,

I always remember your smile

That looked innocent and kind,

Yet mischievous.

Your silvery eyes defied the cold,

Looked into my very soul,

I saw the world in a different fold.

You caressed me in your chest,

That housed a heart I knew not.

Life is a risk, Love a bigger one.

With you love has a new meaning,

You are my heart throb,

Yet my heart troubles.

I am imprisoned in with your love.

Yet I don’t want to be free.



How can they be lovers?

When he is gone?

How can they be soul mates?

When their souls

have lost each other.

There she was at night,

By her window

talking to him.

He was not there.

But to her he was so real,

As real as the air she breathe

As real as the gown she wore.

Her heart carried him

Everywhere she went,

To the market place,

The school playground,

Sunday school,

And she carried its blisters too.


I do not intend to kill our love,

Though distance eventually will.

With shylock’s knife,

It will cut love’s heart away.

I fear the blood,

That will pour,

That will stain your spotless, pure mind.

And make me forever a murderer.

A flowing sea from the eyes,

A heart broken like glass,

A scar irremovable,

A love that vanished,

And a lover unrecoverable.


I remembered the day,
I found a string of hair,
On the linen garments that I wore.
And its scent no doubt
Brought memories of yester-kisses
And the warm embrace
Of your velvet soft skin.
I held the string of hair
In my tepid hand,
Caressing it,
Savouring its sweet smell,
It caressed me back
Bringing warmth.
No doubt, it was yours.
Today, the string ties our future
In speculative uncertainty,
But I am doubly sure,
That my love for thee,
Will forever be as the Sunshine.
The mind as we know it,
Fonder with time - a wayward wind.
But always know my love,
That although the wayward wind
Blew the string of hair away,
Never to be seen again
By my mortal eyes.
I know it never can take away,
The sweetness of my heart - You!
But only you can.



As exercise strengthens the muscles, Poetry muscles the man, love eternity.


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