A woman’s heart

Dear poet

Your poem’s plaintive cry

Tears my heart in two

Can I at least try

Sing a lullaby

Put those blood-shot eyes

To restful sleep

As you wander

Like a spirit

In your haunted dreams

Can I just

Run my slender fingers

Through the crop of hair

That frames your forehead

If you shiver

Seeing those ghosts of past

In your nightmares

Can I rub your back

And wipe those beads of sweat

Drive away your fears

 As you cling to me

And refuse to let go

I’ll tell you a bed-time story

Of the brave sherzhada

On a fine white horse

Who fought the war of love

Riding across the desert

And reached the oasis

With the desert beauty won

And when you fall asleep

I’ll lie there beside

With my arms

Wrapped around you

Like a protective blanket

O Poet do you see

With your poetry

You have managed

To awaken the mother in me

 But it’s not easy

My dear poet

To know a woman’s heart

Now she is a mother

But look who is hiding behind her

Isn’t she your passionate lover

One who would not submit

To your undisciplined ardor

Therefore my dear

Making a poet out of you