The Magic Spell
You walk in wasteland for years in winter,
desire the embrace of warm sea azure,
get the yearned niche where the heart won’t splinter,
that’s where you discover love not obscure.
In your shining sky silver moon moves slow,
at dawn the sun bursts with colors to lure,
the dew pearls adorn your meadow to glow,
that’s when you discern the mystique love pure.
As the sunny days of entwined walk ends,
with lingering touch emotions endure,
happy heart beats in rhythm the feeling blends,
that’s when you know you’re lost in love for sure.
In the longing dream if you feel you dwell,
“love weaves a mysterious magic spell”.
#3
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