Love 1939

Love 1939

Written on every tree
In bold the name of me

She accepts
My proposal and she writes

I love you too
As usual we teens do

In nineteen thirty nine
I leave her safe under the tree, pine

My cycle
Buckle tight to the bark
And I promise to the soil to return back quick

The cycle is eaten up half
As the missing time of mine considerably enough

The rain of pain here was so severe
Unable to bear, my love, at first turned to stone
And then washed away into the river.

poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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