"I am impossible to please,
with poetry or anything else"
I am stunned by your beauty,
yet, flummoxed by this stubbornness.
Golden sun does caress your face,
and highlight lovely curls,
reminding me this, yet again,
nothing stays for ever.
Up the hill through a winding path,
you lead me from the front,
look out point did invite,
you didn't pay any heed.
On sundown, when we go down,
hold my hand, stand close to my side,
view those blue hills at the farthest,
you'll change and understand.
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 1:53 PM UTC
"I am impossible to please,
with poetry or anything else"
I am stunned by your beauty,
yet, flummoxed by this stubbornness.
Golden sun does caress your face,
and highlight lovely curls,
reminding me this, yet again,
nothing stays for ever.
Up the hill through a winding path,
you lead me from the front,
look out point did invite,
you didn't pay any heed.
On sundown, when we go down,
hold my hand, stand close to my side,
view those blue hills at the farthest,
you'll change and understand.
Request permission to use this poem