(Sonnet) 

 

I like silver rain when she dropped on thy

Moist body, moist mind, I just hold thine hand,

I’m shivering because I read thine brown eye

It’s like drinking a cup of coffee, but not on this land.

When the clouds become darker as like the charcoal  

When the nature become the foe of us, and thou whisper

I Love you; then I forget my past colors of purple,

Thy smile, thy eyes, thy wet lips make me crisper.

 

Thy beauty like fresh ornament in this world

And I’m the thesaurus of her beauty all time,

Sometime I feel like to be the nature of the wild

And I hold her tightly in my arms and we chime,

And I feel passionate when of thee wet lips is wavering,

But I can’t hold myself to kiss thee, when thy lips are shivering.

 

23/01/2016

Tullamore, Ireland