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Many days
I do not read any newspaper
Even do not see television
At all
Many days have gone
After You
I do not read any poetry

How to feel that since this morning!
Repeatedly hear identifying tunes on the air

Your arrival in the sky,
The air reverberates
Looks like another day
In the Paradise,
In another song,
Which brings the soul
The Aroma

Everyone is coming out
From all sides
Young Old
Babies Boys
Women Men
Everyone
Everyone is clapping
Singing the song of the same tune
This song is not the song of Rain
Not even a lamentation

The Southern breeze whispering your words
Slowly Said,
The Little Tailor Bird
No, No,
Not such a summer afternoon
Not even a hurricane warning

Each of the human eye
Follow the Eastern Sky  
Tireless Eye
Watching the sun,
The Red Sun,
You went to bring dreams for us
From the Sun

Hundreds of thousands of people
In his next question
Hand with Flower
Shoulder to Shoulder
Today will be the day of strangers,
The poet will come
We are standing in the flowers
Fist full of dreams to take

Float in the sky with white clouds
My dreams are calling again
Today is not such an Autumn
But Still feel like an Autumn
Indeed,  
The poet will come,
A poem in the New

Where each word will be spoken dream
Love to be evacuated
Poems that will repay
The debt to my Ancestor
Take revenge on thee
For their injustice,
Torture
Poems that would bring the stars
For our next generation
A poem that would bring the red rose for my darling,
Would bring such a smile to my mother's face
As Moon that smile
And that is simply killed false dreams
Will we ever Released
Sing Freedom Songs

The Poet,
My beloved Poet
You will come,
Will surely come
And will recite your immortal poem
/

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Syllables and sound
Many brain waves and senses
Not all conscious

Your trunk is firm
Your leaves collect the wind
You stand alone
Glowing orange
Deeper than the others
Assimilating in brown
You imply attention
With the beauty of your trunk
One with all else
Still one

Mountain air so crisp
Eager sun to kiss my lips
Valley sings a song
Sweet as glacial water
Pooling, icy at my feet
Bare and cut
They pace me through
The highest mountain pass

Rising late to rolling white
Clouds that roll off mountains
Like water down a waterfall
Slowly blanketing the valley in grey
Gently touching every rock

Pouring gently in slow motion
Crawling without destination
Like a newborn calmly flailing
On its first test of motion

Growing, shrinking, with the wind
Change is all it knows
For now it moves at pace so slow
The pouring white has stopped time

The pitter patter ceases
Brings robins songs to echo
Through the clouds
Against the grey white blanket
Falling to my ears

Oh beautiful rosy shade tree
Do you touch the spirit of me?
Which way will you fall?
I will wait and cogitate for you,
My love, just for me too
A family of giants
That we are;

A body hunched over
With precious shards;
To know so simply the touch
As I sleep alone
In my broken world;
The molasses air
Slowly shroud in mists
Across the straits
To hear our echoes cry,
As I sit beneath the tree branch and ponder
About you, just you;

Sitting there waiting and looking for
Hopefully the spirit heals with time
And tide
Oh gentle waters
Bring my heart home to you.
And sitting beneath a branch
As I sit and pounder
And wonder
About the shores with my favored eye,
And your kiss of past times;

As my mysteries past stir
And arise to thee my love.
Oh sweet spirit
Spirit of mine
Keep me safe for thee
As I sit beneath the branch and ponder
And wonder
About my love for you and me;
So my darling hold me close
Let me feel your love to me
Touch my hair so gently
Tell me of your lasting love
So wrap your limbs around my form
Tell me sweet things
Before I hear the news
Of the goodbye of long ago;

As I sit and ponder
As I sit and wonder
As I sit and dream of the love of you.

Debbie Brooks 2014