We climbed the hill,
and I drank from my goblet
wine of my fill.
From the skies above came,
the carriage of horses,
the smiling rider crying shame.
My beloved sat on the far stone,
plucking petals from her hair,
in the night she alone and me lone.
I was bringing her the roses,
she had love oozing from her eyes
Awesome read :)
ReplyDeleteMany thanks Paritosh
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