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Ahmed Ali Nov 2017
A pious man had two daughters beautiful set forth ,
Till one day he married then off both,
one wed the farmer and other wed the potter,
the wise man called on them a year after.

To the farmer’s wife he asked how she felt,
"A lot happy father, only there is one thing I want yet
We sowed some seeds and the rains have not made the fields wet",
Do not worry dear I'll pray after I have left.

As he crossed the fields green,
He prayed for the  clouds  to rain.
and went to see the other one of his lineage,
who lived yonder in the next village,.

To the potters wife he asked how she felt,
A lot happy father, only there is one thing I want yet,
We made some pots and the sun is not as hot as it should get,
The wise man sat up and soon he went out and left.

Under the big tree.. he knelt down and prayed
Asked His forgiveness, uttering these words as he raved,
O Lord.. thou are the only one to know what to do,
The wisest of all, thou only  knows what is the best..!"


This is a story narrated to me by my mentor (Moula)..longtime ago and I only gave it a shape of a poem. Before this I had posted  it on my Multiply blog.

(By: Khan, BA..01-1-2017)
however man may try to alter the things  ultimately it is the Divine that sets is right.. the key lies in finding the path to Divine and stick to it..
Ahmed Ali Nov 2017
Inside a room dark with  little moonlight
Peering over pages clear as white
With hair long seeming unkept to the sight
Scribbling words that common couldn't get right
Heart & mind together a tender thing in delight
Lost in ecstasy of his beloved's image upright..

"Dazzling with golden curls serpentine bright
The beauty that perceived through the orbs bright
And the pleasure of the beloved in clear sight
Beauty unexplained by tongues tight
And that none could put on paper nor write
Sages mentioning of it only in esoteric delight!"

Finally the pen scribes on the paper white
That the beauty of the beloved is itself a shield tight
Then the figure turns the head, just slight
And catches itself in silver of seeping moonlight
who is this being now that we can have the sight
Lo; it is none but the  mysterious poet.

(By: Khan, BA on Nov 1st, 2017)
The discription of the poet who  beholds  his beloved and trying to describe the beauty instead  comes to know that it is such that  no descrption  will do justice to the beauty of the beloved.
Ahmed Ali Oct 2017
Come let's build a home by the lake,
I will cherish every pie that you'll bake,
We'll have kids, grow old & fat,
Together my love till it's late.

You will sing and I will play the fiddle,
Till morning hour we will solve the riddle,
While you soak and make me sizzle,
Together my love till it's late

Some may say that love isn't everything
But then I know they know of it nothing,
Pure as truth and infinite in everything
Love is all and nothing beyond its wings.

Come let's build a home by the lake,
I will cherish every pie that you'll bake,
Feed me your love in azure cups,
Till there is only love and nobody else.

(By BA Khan...I post it again for my friend)
Ahmed Ali Oct 2017
What would I do with out you
What good I am if not with you
You by my side is dream come true
Your leash on me is the reward for me
From the hour my eyes held your gaze
I lost myself to become your vase
And the river ready for ocean's embrace
What good I am without your grace
How can I rest and lie down once more
If your golden curls, my eyes do not adore
Even with eyes closed I see your radiant face
As your fire sets my inside ablaze
How can I breathe without your embrace
Even when every breath adorns your name
Some say I become a slave of your love
Does it matter as long as my love is my love?
What would I do with out you
What good I am if not with you.

(By: Khan, BA on Oct 28, 2017)
It doesn't matter what one becomes as long as he is in love..
All that matters is the lover's  love fr his beloved..Rest is all immaterial
Ahmed Ali Oct 2017
"This life is but a rain bubble..
Stop playing with rubble,
Look from whence you have come,
Start your stance towards that realm"

(by: Khan, BA) 27/10/2017
Ahmed Ali Oct 2017
Beauty to a common is just physical,
Beauty to a mature is all irrational,
Beauty to a wise is exceptional
Beauty to a mother is her blossoming flower,
Beauty in a flower is its captive nature,
Beauty in the clouds is in its downpour,
Beauty in night sky is bejeweled sphere,
Beauty in a river is its flowing nature
But Beauty to a lover is beyond anyone's sphere..

(by: Khan, BA)
In reply to Anne Nechetta
Ahmed Ali Oct 2017
Poet..

I am not a poet, nor this a poem from me,
I am nothing  nor do I intend to be,
I have this restlessness  that breeds in me,
I tried to tame it, instead it tamed me,
I become a slave, that is left of me,
I seek it as it seeks me,
I hear it as it hears me,
I love it as it loves me
I ain't separate , not it from me,
I say no more, now is not me,
I am it, as it is in me.

(b: Khan, BA)
For those who took the least travelled road..
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