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Post by Deepthy on Nov 19, 2004 9:21:10 GMT 5.5
Can't Stop Thinking About You !
This is a romantic poem written to satiate the thirst of a heart to express its unrequited love. This was written last year n' has been called mushy by my friends….
All through the heat of the day, All through the blissful midnight, All through the sizzling summer And thru’ the chilling winter, You have been a source of solace, You have been a source of comfort, You have been my so much such that, I can’t get u out of my mind.
You came to my life as mere surprise, You rushed thru my heart as warm, red blood Your voice became the music for me, Your smile kindles the world for me. But I know this is forbidden pleasure, What I wish is someone else’s treasure. I plead to my Lord “guide me right”<br>No matter how my heart do fight.
But I tell you my friend for life! Beyond the miles that keeps us apart, Beyond the walls that tear us apart, There ticks a heart, only for you, There cries a heart craving for you. Above the lonely landscape, below the starry sky, It stays awake all thru’ the night, Just because it can’t stop thinking about you.
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Post by gauravbhargava on Dec 3, 2004 22:41:44 GMT 5.5
Hi
I am here now .. so i will also add to this
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and Ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seem to lose With my lost saints -- I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
~Gaurav Bhargava~
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Post by siddharth on Dec 4, 2004 9:48:46 GMT 5.5
[glow=red,2,10000][/glow]
My lady's presence makes the roses red, Because to see her lips they blush for shame. The lily's leaves, for envy, pale became, And her white hands in them this envy bred. The marigold the leaves abroad doth spread, Because the sun's and her power is the same. The violet of purple colour came. Dyed in the blood she made my heart to shed. In brief: all flowers from her their virtue take; From her sweet breath their sweet smells do proceed; The living heat which her eyebeams doth make Warmeth the ground and quickeneth the seed. The rain, wherewith she watereth the flowers, Falls from mine eyes, which she dissolves in showers. [shadow=red,left,400] love [glow=golden,2,300]sidz[/glow]
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