Stolen......

(c) Shilpa Sandesh

My precious one,
What do I do with this frisky heart!
It jumps, it bounces, it twists and turns,
As if hit by the Cupid's dart;

I feel like a philosopher of ardor,
Penning a new definition of zeal,
Every passing hour,
Imagining the imaginations as real;

I am amazed at the destiny's wonder,
Two minds in love, a kittenish and a rollicking,
While one forever ponders,
The other is magically sporting;

The thoughts begin with moon and stars,
And then the hearts jump,
In a delightful war,
The yearning and craving, like charming love crumbs;

Oh see its thumping again,
Like a hammer and axe and choppers and stones,
Spelling your name,
And bombarding in my chest,
I guess my heart's stolen!





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