I'm asked to write about "devotion", Then there will be no single emotion. "Poet" tends to talk about moods; No limits when he harks and broods. A poet is like that lone bird, Acutely yearning to be heard. His words tweet a soft melody;
To our aches, that's a remedy.
He writes about love and passion,
Together evokes women's fashion.
His sole theme is about women,
In their seas, he keeps swimming.
I, to my theme, am devoted.
In love, I am self-promoted.
Only to my wife, I indite
About our sorrows and delights.
© Written on 07/19/2017
Published with permission by poet.
IN THE SHIMMERING GREENERY Scrounging an instant of silence from time, Seeking around in the stream of events, The wind was making an exquisite old rhyme, And the leaves were falling off so intense. She was staring at the green, old Oak tree, Brisk wind was stiffly wagging its branches. The ground was grassy and insect-free. The tree stayed flinty on farms and ranches.
She was shedding tears down her rosy cheeks,
Like the Oak tree when shedding its dead leaves. She may sometimes keep weeping hours and weeks, Her tears of gloom, a simple flower deceives. Despite greenery, the grass and its splendor, Dejection overwhelms her with pains and aches. Yet her two hands were still warm and tender, No one would ever know the sorrow it takes.
© 07/21/2017 Permission granted to publish by Poet.
Author Bio: Walid Boureghda is a 42-year old Algerian poet, working as a training executive at Sonatrach-ENI Group. He holds a B.A. degree in the English Language and Literature from the University of BATNA in Algeria. He draws inspiration for his poetry from the unceasing love of his beloved wife. He also writes about spreading peace over the world and dispelling hatred and bigotry.