The Lover’s Call

What lover has of the beloved, and what lover craves more...

What lover has of the beloved, and what lover craves more…

My moments spent with you
are like trees that have
only seen the spring.
In night, I trace them again,
like a loyal gardener
watering the flowers,
to keep them unspoiled.

My conversations with you
are like a dance flamenco
or a salsa in ball.
In night, steps on my heart
like a hands of a veteran
performing on instrument,
rattling the soul beneath.

My all fights with you
are like juvenile tussles
of the teenage years.
In night, my pillow confesses
like an only pet subdued,
how much it desires a
partner to wrestle with.

My resentments with you
are like bridled candles
blazing in anguish.
In night, they burn and melt,
like an ice mountain in
sun-drenched day, resulting a
calmness post avalanche.

My memories with you
are like nostalgic songs,
music that never grows old.
In night, my mind replays
like the vignettes, of a flower
growing before my eyes
from a bud to full blown.

Yes, my beloved,
I confess that
you’re the last song that
I hum every night
before sleeping…

And you’re my last wish
before I step into
the realm of dreaming…

That these fingers
crave to slide
in those tresses
claiming each strand
as their own, like a wind,
they want to retain
the fumes
on the finger tips.

That these eyes desire
to see you, to admire you –
your simplicity and grace,
the benevolent charm,
lucid innocence,
with sparks
that grow in them like
pearls do in the sea-shells.

That these ears wish
to hear you singing,
the yesteryear songs.
Along endless narrations
of subliminal poetry
you choose so deliberately
to unsettle the restless
heart. Like a sea-breeze
tingling an already joyous
vacationist.

That these lips too
complain of their dryness
in your absence.
Like burgundy leaves
near crisp of breaking,
spending whole night
without a discourse
of heavenly mist.

That this head of mine
looks for a comfort
of your lap to spend
the solace of my days
and nights in,
like a canvas of a painter
it awaits you to captivate
and paste thy colors in.

That this heart of mine
seeks to sync the beats
to the rhythm of yours
pulse and the breaths,
that are taken under
the same roof,
being as close as a priest
with the holy figurine.

My love, I know not
what to say
to make you come close…
except this

that your presence in my life
is a fortune that I seek
each day, each night,
irrespective of dreams.

-x-x-x-

Let moon be full and its silver be abound. Let us meet under its glory to never be found.

Let moon be full, its silver be abound. Lets meet under such glory to never be found.

– Dedicated to the love song… that lover likes to hum every night.

Art/ Image Credits:
1. A Lover’s Dream – Synian
2. Lovers Dream Couple – Stock Wallpaper.

9 thoughts on “The Lover’s Call

  1. “My moments spent with you
    are like trees that have
    only seen the spring.
    In night, I trace them again,
    like a loyal gardener
    watering the flowers,
    to keep them unspoiled.”❤

    "That these ears wish
    to hear you singing,
    the yesteryear songs." Ahah so so so relatable.

    It's such a lovely poem. You have expressed beautifully the desire of your heart in simple words. I am impressed. Like always. I just love love love this post. You have expressed perfectly a situation of a passionate lover. Its always like that. Keep writing.🙂

  2. “Yes, my beloved,
    I confess that
    you’re the last song that
    I hum every night
    before sleeping…

    And you’re my last wish
    before I step into
    the realm of dreaming…”

    This – was my undoing.. It is every lover’s wish to be loved as ferociously and as completely as this poem proclaims..
    What is love? It’s a feeling that you carry with you along with the thoughts of your beloved, during the day through the night until you give in to slumber, only to stay with you even in your dreams.. You breath in you lover, bask in their memories, and are almost dead at the mere thought of estrangement..

    The beginning, to be honest, didn’t catch my attention but as I read on, I loved every minute detail of the feelings that only a person who has been in love can reproduce.

    Thanks for making me read it. I had almost forgotten how good you are😉

    • Thank you Huda. The structure of the poem is divided in two halves… Start was about the lover dwelling in nostalgic moments, interactions of past… this is a part of rememberance. Once he’s done with those details he basks in the spell of love… the recall gives him stuff to cherish driving his passion and intensity to the levels where not he just confesses but starts praising the beloved for everything desirable… this becomes a second part. In a way this is a wish a lover makes before stepping into the slumber.🙂

      • The beauty of love is in remembering and cherishing the moments spent together than dwelling in the pain brought on by separation.

      • Yes… Indeed. But many times, ever for pain when you’re traversing the memory, you unfeelingly fall in love again… like the very first time… you come under same spells. Now if you stay dominant, then you can be sad. If you stay submissive then it will conquer you and you’ll again start praising and praying… and imagining how good it could be if beloved is here…🙂
        So this piece was about that optimism. When good stuff of the love takes over and just eases the pain of separation into hope to be united again, in reality or in dreams, and as they say in this life or perhaps the next.🙂

  3. Of note, Confession – is the key. No matter how old you get, to hear those words of love would invigorate even the most of wilting hearts..

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