Poetry: Ashraf AboArafe
O Lady of the roses, hear my plea,
Too long your absence left my nights in chains;
Where is the breath that once would set me free,
The jasmine smile that banished all my pains?
Where are the blooms—carnation’s gentle glow,
The tulip’s grace that dwells within your gaze?
Where’s orange blossom, morning’s sweetest show,
That woke my soul to greet the dawn’s warm blaze?
The lavender that whispers to the night,
The violet that calms the weary heart—
All gathered in your form, a rare delight,
Each petal playing love’s eternal part.
You are my sentence’ start, my song’s first line,
Yet where’s the end that makes your truth all mine?
