Sunday, 15 January 2012


When I post a poem for her 
And praise her beauty, that she cannot see it. 
For all that I know
One deep sigh comes from my heart,
Single she is together with her children,
Wearing something around eyes' coolness,
To make her presence as heroine
In her kicking up her bold attitude,
It is her life, it is her tide, low or high, 
It is not my poem, but it is that poem 
She wants to read and share if she likes it.

Her declaration is everywhere,
As if she is an angel who launches her beauty
As the euphoria in life and over sky
And she moves with words those are her game,
Like a dramatist’s act makes wonder,
On the last scene of act and tactical shot,
To show mastery, her loving art.

I look at her beauty, right into her lovely eyes,
Every moment, every day, I look at her plight
That she bites for living with struggle,
And I know her, very strong is her will
And all things of her I do praise, in love,
And I discover she is great lover, 
And she makes traces for those who loved her earlier. 

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