208. I bury lovely days in your cute eyes,

SONNET 208

By JH Sayyar
I bury lovely days in your cute eyes,
Like dead in graves for time being!
Before this my soul to Almighty flies,
The wrinkled face tells age is fleeing.
Slowly and slowly pass all bitter days,
Happy days pass like a cannon shot,
How short is life on earth when I gaze,
Sweet less but bitter more in my lot
When sorrows encircle I dig a grave,
To get back my days from your eyes,
To gladden poor heart then I crave,
To die in your arms my death spies.

Can I think of making a lodge on earth?
Thief death spies me since my poor birth.