SONNET 240
By JH Sayyar
Can I take back from you, my youth?
Dissolves into you; gives a shape new,
All day makes happy your pretty ruth,
Sitting on the brow, a silky casket sew,
But you torture everyday my poor soul,
Your doings deceives me, night expose,
In all your doings, your silky body role,
You win love; I lose, tell what it shows?
Your beauty converts my love into salt,
A few know, how love changes into hate,
Women’s eyes see beauty, not the fault,
Her eyes changes small anon into great,
Your face in moonlit makes grief longer,
A full view of body makes kiss stronger
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