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ANOTHER BOUQUET OF VERSES JUST FOR DONNA
Poets, writers, artists and musicians,
In fact all those, with an imagination,
And capable of capturing the mundane,
And make it lustrous and beautiful,
Are described by others as misfits,
In this materialistic world of abomination.
Love too has become a means of,
Satisfying carnal craving for satisfaction,
Of the lower, animalistic instincts,
While fidelity is now a foolish conception!
I sit at the lake where I often come to save,
Myself from the hollow pits of this modern age,
With a book on Socrates, Buddha or Al-Hallaj,*
I try to find refuge from the technical cage,
Which this planet of ours has been turned into,
And while reading, I often dream about 'you':
And thank you, O sweet Donna, for all that you do,
I wonder if I will ever be the same without you.
A breeze blows, clouds gather and birds sing,
If only you were with me to enliven everything!
O, my sweetest friend of them all!
You make me feel great and prevent my fall.
When others deserted me you stood all along,
And gave me the strength to make sorrows flee.
So, I say yet again, that a friend like you,
Is a sign of God's love and His soothing song.
(Written by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay. Posted on July 24, 2011).
