“A little bit of rain on my words,”
Cried the poet.
But the rain would not acquiesce
For she dreaded a languagekiss.

© LazharBouazzi

That hidden* silent something
the heart hankers after
for dear life--would set aside
never, never ever

like the final note, unforgettable
of the symphony in its splendour
the fullest radiance and pride
of the pristine blowing flower-

like the sun clearing its way
from the grey clouds in cluster
to smile for and warmth the waiting earth
to fill it with wonder and laughter-

like you and me still in incompleteness
the last piece to crown our life we are yet after
the patience, the faith, the endurance
to the ripening of hope, beauty and love we surrender.

Penning down the thoughts
Am I not done with the words
Have I used them all?

Round and round
Thoughts and words
In the loop bound

The thoughts have been naughty
Jump off the mind cliff,  doughty
Don’t want to be worded
Flight to nowhere boarded
Off the radar crash land , all spotty

The Don knew well
That the hell
He raised
Was not on the mill
That  sobbed on the hill.

So with his quill,
He dug a tunnel
In his encampment.

©LazharBouazzi, 10 September, 2018

rest your head
on my lap
the ocean waves will
sing you to sleep
sigh my friend
cry if you must
those tears are
the way to comfort
those tears will
cleanse your heart
let it all out and come to rest
for when the sun rises
flowers will bloom
from the tears you shed