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JUST FOR MY DAPHNE
When I look at the laurel
Whose name is Daphne
I remember my very own
Laurel called Daphne.
Two decades and more
Have passed but even now
She is what she was
My very own Daphne.
I miss her cool sweetness
Her alluring mystique
The modest bearing
Of graceful Daphne.
Even to this day
I am lost without her
Though she is mine always
I am naught sans Daphne.
Wordsworth missed Lucy
And Poe Annabel Lee
And even I keep pining
For 'undying' Daphne.
Life has little meaning
Nothing is the same now
As it once used to be
When my life was Daphne.
So tell the flowery garden
To shed most treasured tears
When the evening falls
And nights long for Daphne.
In velvety green and white
She still walks past those paths
Where the nightingales sang
Just for my Daphne.
(Written by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay. Posted on the 23rd of August, 2011).
