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 Jun 2020 Sheema Huq
Ayesha
drawn by budding child,
my hope is uneven but
never wilts away.
<>
With love.
 Jun 2020 Sheema Huq
arsonpoet
The sky twirling at bay,
Melodies of summer in May,
Heat stroking farther, forever
In this oblivious weather,
The wind flies high,
Darkness regretted, Light calls,
To enervate the recreated world,
The maze of life,
Is regrettable,
Unforgettable.
But as summer calls,
So do the loving and dead,
And, thus,
The unforgettable becomes forgettable.

— The End —