PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Amoung the flowers

Sitting vision of beauty

My eyes were deceived.





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There before my eyes

face delicate as a doll

hair finer than silk.



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Blowing in the wind

Eyes green as emeralds

Emeralds they would fade.



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Off in the distance

I suddenly hear sweet songs

They are calling me.



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I reached out to touch

But as I reached to touch

she fluttered away.



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Becoming a dream

that will forever haunt me

Leaving just a song.





AFZAL SHAUQ