Roundabout of Love

Take root.

Look inside my heart,

that was once beating with thunderous joy.


A strand of a grey hair here,

wrinkles under the eyes there.

The feet that no longer run

swiftly as the wild deer.

A mind that denies the sunset of years.


Did you not know that

I can still fall in love madly

and passionately with the red roses

and the scent of jasmines,

and feel those fingers that

sometimes curl around the lock of a hair

and brush it aside

to see the half moonlight

over waves.

That is when time has to stop

at the roundabout of love.

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