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Shofi Ahmed Mar 26
The rose is at the tip of the fingers
the thorn is down the abyss what now
is a golden sun in a dew
hanging on its petal balmy hue!

The nightingale did jump on it  
first thing in the morn
but one seems to know the rose
since the dawning of the dawn!
Shofi Ahmed Mar 18
A hiss of the moon tucking
into just a pair of lock
let alone in pavilion-tresses
on the back of one's eternal silence.
Giving autumn shadows
to seven skies' azure.
What now the stars are gone
followed in their countless galore!

Eyes of the buds ope
dreaming nightingale
hops up to the morning rose  
singing in what a balmy fold.
Miles Nov 2021
through my window
the train disappears
tired and weary
a gallery of souls
materialize then retreat

with love and loneliness,
joy and sadness
painted with compassion
and indignation, darkness
resides within the light

the nightingale sings
of renewed ecstasy—
for you my prayers are full
lovers once, of you
i dream into the night
Karijinbba Aug 2021
Secret bridal shelter.
"There is a legend about a bird
which sings just once in its life,
more sweetly than any
other creature on the face of the earth.
From the moment it leaves the nest
it searches for a thorn tree, and
does not rest until it has found one."
And singing among it's savage branches it impales itself
Upon it's sharpest longest spine;
bleeding, and unaware
of it's dying it sings to out Carol
the Lark and the Nightingale!
A song so beautiful God in heaven
smiles, for the best it's only bought
at the price of great pain
and sacrifice.
I voice love timely tonight
with cards left at hand.
Our inner feelings and thoughts
We ink new dreams on wings.
We are each others flame souls.
Never too late not too soon for us.
Lullaby hulla bulbul dear.
I love you! worship you!
I give my life to save yours,
if only you ask.

We betted bought love
at the cost of great pain
sacrificing a lifetime in longing
unrequited lost and now found.
He rules with heart of gold.
My king of hearts and I.
By:: Karijinbba
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2021
The terra is only one
planted in clay soil
one planet of earth!

The sneaked out nightingale
here is never gone.
Unleashes soprano  
at the same ancient roses'
still a perfumed home!

It's the starry upside's
dark down deep hole.
Sunset melting shadow
down the half light moon!
Eyes on in toto cool
after the day painter sun
is done colouring in full.

Guess, up from the sunrise mountain
who beams back tomorrow
into this unfathomed serene clay-mole?
Again see the sun follows by the moon!
FC Azaele May 2021

Love, love
rest your sleepy head
your in no shape to make amends
I swear, all will be fine in the end

The winds are silent,
the waves crash low
Doubt no more that the world
will stream once more

Hear the chirping
sing to the humming
Hear that?
The nightingales are singing

I swear to you
All will be fine in the end

Now rest your sleepy head

Diljeev Feb 2021
And then a year later,
the ship sets sail
fleeing a year long sorrow,
into the tomorrow.

Each breath
calling out your name
a yearning for a last gaze,
every ear's thirst
for your voice,

a desire to quench it all
one of these days,
on you and me if there may
never dawn this tomorrow.

From the captain
to the cleaner himself,
they all yearn for it,
before they depart.

From the sky
to the ocean herself,
envy the troop's pining
for she who on the port
detract's the beauty
of this scene
for she who in their eyes
poses to be better than art.

- Diljeev
Chris Chaffin Jan 2021
His whistling rises with the moon;
softened trills and murmurings
grow louder in the dusking sky,

drift across my ceiling, down
into my waiting ears.

A halo of satisfaction rings his face,
sweat drying on his chest
as he leans back upon my balcony.

I gather his things
and place them by the door.
I know this tune is not meant for me.

But I listen to it, still,
and dream of my hands
tangled in his soft feathers.

Who will sing me to sleep
when the nightingale is paired?
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2020
A love buried in the depth of the earth
skipping the grave that can be lit up
and the bottom of the sea
water billows out of this abyss
netting the eyeballs of the sky.
Then the bottom of the night
was skipped likewise.

Taring the shades of black
there the moon rolls out
in the enchanting half-light.
So it had to be tucked away
only at the bottom of the earth.

Everything the all-inclusive pi  
could pop up from that safe womb there
that carries the weight of the matters  
but never shows up an equating pattern!

The nightingale scurries to the red rose
bubbling on the morning tessera
as if it mined out the treasure of the earth!
Oh it doesn't seem to be the only one scorer
upon the rose a mirror is up in the sky
‘Love’ is in the eyes of the sun!
Dali Jul 2020
let it be night
let me see those eyes
And oh, the spark in his eyes
Would shame those stars
Owl’s deep hooting at night
Deep as his natter about life
Birds dancing in gale
Did we wake them?
Or was it the nightingale
Let us dance like those birds think it were not night
And let me lay
Upon your soft skin
As I watch your eyes
Like they were one of those stars
O, my dear my love
Did you feel the fast thud of my heart?
Hammering, pounding wanting to be out
And a touch of yours would calm me through the night
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