Thy little hands and twinkling eyes
Narrating a story of the whimsical hope
Which emerged through the black sky
In the sheer dark of fear and despair
Thou art so young my friend
But the words thy tongue doth speak
Mesmerize me like I had an ancient wine
Served by none other than the great Socrates
Thou art frail and tender
Yet I’ve seen thy valor
Terrorizing the mighty and cruel
Making them to genuflect
Whenever they catch a glimpse of thee
Thou art the savior of my tormented self
Thou art the healer of my aching heart
Thou art the hope of my fearful mind
Thou art my real friend
In the good or worse
Whatever life would bring for us
Thou would be there
My friend
I could never return thee
The myriad love
Like thou have showered
Upon my heart, body and soul
Yet I just have to whisper to the wind
Blowing from my land to thy unknown abode afar
I was touched by an angel called Love yesteryears
And I am living with this unfulfilling wish since
Would I ever be touched again?
Aug 03,2009
Dr Kamran Haider Bukhari
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/angel-called-love/
