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When my co-author is far away,
I don't know why,
I fall astray.
You should decry
Procrastination's deceit,
Which I try
But cannot defeat!
We're separated by the ocean
On the Earth.
And so distinct are the emotions
Of our hearts.

I wish I could pull out
These memories of you.
And plant instead in good amount
Feelings I can pursue!

Though window is so blurred,
I still can see
A shape of figure I adored,
In front of wet trajectory.
Al Quqoniy May 27
From the desert,
                             which is far away,
Came little bird,
                            seeking for place to stay.
When he was crossing,
                                        unknown garden
The Irish daisy’s
                              occurrence sudden
Made him forget how
                                      To fly and breathe.
And made him fall,
                                  on thorns beneath.
Abruptly standing
                                 Up, he began his song.
Here is, enjoy!
                         Won’t make you wait long:

“Without you a moment
Is like a century for me!
Your short absence is such a torment
Made me question: to be or not to be?
The land where you are
Is like an entrance of cemetery.
But land with no thee,
Is graveyard saying:  not to be!
I want to own selfishly,
Your snowy petal’s tenderness,
And to declare jealously,
A war,
To those who are
Drunk with your scents!
Recall,
A moment is the century
On your absence!”

This is the end of song,
                                        But yet
This Irish daisy is
                               Making my bird upset.
We seek just happiness
                                         In an unhappy world,
Which has confessors
                                      With unresponded song!
Al Quqoniy May 12
Nature's summer is close to come,
Meanwhile my spirit is still in winter.
This injury, when will I overcome?
To finally become a winner?

Do not look at me with those empty,
Trying-to-see-through-me eyes!
Without them I am so unhappy!
Without them I feel my body dies!

The day will come, and my cold body
Will not be warmed on summer rain,
The day will come, my dear buddy,
You will not see my smile again.
(I appreciate dear Frank Pryor for the review and important comments)
Al Quqoniy May 12
I need to write a dot, not a comma,
To our book, in which I've never been beloved,

But was a memory, a temporary guest,
With little space you gave me in your chest.

Your life goals are only hedonistic,
What made me feel not quite optimistic.

Cannot be a sailor, cannot leave the shore:
You, on my life-boat to face a storm.

My absence won't be hard, won't be a test,
As a new toy will appear on your desk.

This for you, is enough for my replacement,
Since I had zero chance to become your heart’s rudiment!
(I appreciate dear Frank Pryor for the review and important comments)

— The End —