You weave your stories like the night,
stringing the moon with the stars;
the finest of pristine pearls,
threaded by twilight.
Weaving the finest Varanasi silk
with life as your celestial loom;
laying down gold- and silver-threaded brocade,
dormant gardens burst in bloom.
Your pen is the philosopher’s stone
turning lead hearts into gold;
manipulating structure in stunning stanzas,
inscribing on hearts in italics and bold.
Nodding in acquiescence
the sages of the ages,
will then add your magnum opus
to their papyraceous pages.
WOW
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Very well written. Very thoughtful 🙂
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thank you, kismet 🙂
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much appreciated, ANooP! 🙂
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Love it
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thank you, Arshia!
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Reblogged this on Mind-over-body.
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thanks so much, Arshia!
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This website was… how do you say it? Relevant!! Finally I have found
something which helped me. Appreciate it!
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