I knew you were home
Before you walked in the door
There's no room for you here sweetie
I'm so sorry sweetie
I had to send you away before
You unpacked your bags
You won't be happy here sweetie
I'm so sorry sweetie

Me and the other girls
We woke up at dawn
We carried you to the river sweetie
The weight of you was pressing
Heavy footprints in the dirt
We waited for the boat man
To take you back sweetie

Me and the other girls
We didn't really want to
But we did what we had to sweetie
It's really what was best
As the boat man pulled you
From my arms sweetie
A dozen and a half roses took your place

Me and the other girls
We left a rose wherever we rested
On our journey back home sweetie
Our feet were lighter
But our hearts were heavier
We dropped rose petals for days
We will drop tears for the rest of our lives
Sweetie

Say again...
     so, that i can hear you.
          What were those pale eyes,
               they wispered to me
                    truth;
               wanton flirtations and sensitive appeal.
Regard...
     its handsome passion,
          the strength,
               slight movements,
     of constant arousal.
          Reassure any desire.

~~
She rolls down the western edge
The bucolic Spiral path
Coincides with the horizon
Gray foot print
Slowly mingles with dark
As the Bats of evening find back to home

Gentle Breeze to dangle
Purple haze of Four O'clock
The Crossroads, Wait behind
Where to start, or what end is!
Poetry continuing as the falls of pain

Afternoon's Lyrics said good bye
Today's bright Star does not rise
What they chase during the run out!
Why come back again
Along with the known way!

Moonlit falls on the ways of Standing hill
Beyond the horizon
Dark fading, while
Lost love fusions with her colors
Across the Monsoon, Autumn, Winter
Finally the Spring is on the way
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

To  my  home  there  on  the  hilltop.
To  my  home  there  by  the  dale.
To  that  place  which  is  a  part  of  me.
One  day  I  know  I'll  sail.

I'll  step  off  the  ships  forever.
And  I'll  sail  no  more  the  seas..
When  I  answer  yet  the  sirens.
Of  my  homeland  calling  me.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.