White honey coming like drops of jasmine
In stillness of honey,
Like milk that touches money,
Such tender flakes of honey combs.
That drips love between its holes.
That touches my taste.
White honey drips from jasmines tips.
Like the form of its jasmine lips……
White honey soothing drip.
That quickens my mind to love in dew of white honey.
Like pureness of silk that vanishes with the heat.
My careful memories live in my heart’s cup.
That sanctifies my soul to rest in shapes of glory.
That magnifies my songs from hell.
I portioned my love from the gardens of truth.
I feel the sense that greets my mistakes.
By the floor of love I have worshiped hope in my thoughts.
By the reins of solace I withdraw from hate.
By the shadows that climb over my shoulder I scream forth light.
By the spinning of secrets I take one seed to keep.
I was the joy in life by the lips of my truth.
I was the soul of oranges fragrance.
Orange is in the richness of truth.
I am the patient dream that wants to believe.
I want to believe in my life again.
I want love that which is pure from hurt.
I want love patiently to heal myself.
For bad love always hated me.
Love is good when my thirst is sweeter.
Love becomes sweeter than the pureness of my heart.
That becomes white honey on a jasmine’s teardrop.
White honey coming like drops of jasmine.
Copyright(c) Shamela 20 / February / 2012