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 Jan 2015 GitacharYa VedaLa
Tim T
Miss Sharapova can groan
as loud as a fighter jet
today she made Henin sweat
but Roland Garros is still a no-fly zone.
Roland Garros 2010, third round: Henin defeated Sharapova in 3 sets.
You
You are the apple to my cake
You are the straw to my berry
You are the sun to my shine
You are the twinkle to my star
You are the rain to my bow
#him & #him #everywhere
Every morning I go out with you
To see such a majestic view
Of the sun slowly rising up in the horizon.
Spending my mornings with you
Makes my day complete
You take away all my blues;
We walk and run
Rest for a while to catch our breaths;
After that we will have a grand meal
Making our hungry tummies happy,
You always make me eat a lot
Because I am too skinny.
Being with with you is such a bliss
You do not only put a smile on my face,
But you make my heart smile as well.
You have been my morning drug
That is keeping me each day alive.
Blood makes you related
Loyalty  makes you family
/
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
/
dear respectable fellow poet, poetess readers
if you like this poem please share your comments and repost the poem.
I will be grateful to you.....
/
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