Tag: love

You Came Into My Life

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

You came into my life,
When I had recovered from love.
I got to know my life again.

I had picked up my trampled heart
And kept it locked away
Within toughened sinew
Then
You came into my life.

When I first saw you
I marvelled on your smile.
But you walked over mine with hob-nail boots
And looked over my hand of friendship.

Destiny proved stronger.
Though my smile was not for you –
My heart had a mind of its own.
(Its spirit survived.)

so I walked into your life.
Took no great notice of your past.
Took you into my heart.
Took you into my home.
Took you to be my partner, lover and love.

Destiny had its say again,
Our hearts were pushed and torn,
Mine tried its best to cling onto yours,
Yours did the same.
Hope survives.
Love carries on.
Life lives upto its name.

You walked into my life.
Your name is now linked to mine.
I try my best to keep my faith in love
And leave the rest to you, your heart and time.

To A—-

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia2 Comments

To A—-

I shall think of smiles Today from the Past,
When we first met eight Septembers ago;
Those smiles which somehow managed to last,
Despite, both, Life and Time’s opposite flow.
The first rose I gave you is still bright red
In my mind’s eye, as are the ones you gave;
But Today’s incomplete if this isn’t said:
We are lovers, who Fate fails to enslave,
We passed the tests of grief Life had to give
And did well in what Time dared us to do.
Despite tears, we made those early smiles live
And, successfully, made some that’re brand new.
Our love, like our smiles, isn’t filled with the Past;
Its evolution is what makes Us last.

14th Feb
2:45am

Dreams.

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia1 Comment

 

He wanders through this wild, mad world
In search of soothing dreams,
And like the Lark that sings for All,
He swings on hopeful beams.

He lives amid a throng unknown,
Forsaking many smiles;
And yet the glint within his eye
Does many eyes beguile.

He talks to none about the dreams,
Conveys to none a sigh,
The others think him very queer,
He will not tell them why.

And Hope is never there at all,
And life is foully weak,
There comes a point when dreams are all
A weary heart can seek.

In them love can live forever
And joy is never old;
Courage is always the bravest
And souls are never sold.

In dreams shall he find his solace,
Wherein he freely flies,
They form the home in which he lives,
The tomb in which he dies.