By JH Sayyar
I
rest my gaze where beauty softly swells,
Two hills of grace beneath the moonlit sheet.
No artist’s hand, no poet’s pen quite tells
The hush that falls where heart and wonder meet.
Like
gentle seas that rise with breath and time,
They move to rhythm deeper than mere flesh.
A sacred pulse, a harmony and a rhyme—
Where passion blooms and quiet thoughts refresh.
Not
lust alone, but love, in full repose,
Finds sanctuary in this tender place.
The rose of sleep, the hush the dreamer knows,
The warmth of dawn upon a longing face.
So
let me praise with lips and silent prayer
What speaks of life, of love, and all things rare.
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