By JH Sayyar
O Lady, your sweet love does light my mind,
And stirs the slumbered ink within my quill;
Where dumb silence reigned, now words I find
That leaps like rivers flowing from a hill.
The dullest pen, once blunt and void of grace,
Now sings with wit and shines with poet’s flame;
Your gaze alone can gild the common place,
Even broken rhymes shall wear your name.
Each sigh you breathe becomes a lyric line,
Each smile you cast refines my rustic art;
What muse could grant such inspiration fine
As beats within your ever-giving heart?
So let me write, though humble be my skill
Your love, O Lady, lends the world its will.
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