Paradise Soft Glow

The shining glitter of the sparking sun,

Was being defeated by a soft glow,

The great toiling of people was a fun,

As a gentle paradise river so cold flow,

Veils of some emotions were just open,

To drag some peaceful shyness,

Which extended its temper for men action,

To the quite fear and utmost dryness,

There in the dotted shades of the roses,

Where through the just wet leaf,

Came biting light to the mosses,

On which with dull eyes and whelming grief,

Something untold to the roses beside,

Was flowing here and there with aroma,

Of coldness in the tyrant sun's pride,

Gave the strength to minds in coma,

She, in a less fair dress with a less fair face,

Sat with an ailment of forced duty,

The composer of the village saw her grace,

With a heavy heart and drunk her beauty,

As fuel to pre hindered voice,

Water flew with music on her flat feet,

Dried air grew sweat like her and rejoice,

Young pens gave her greet,

Her eyes were not so swelled,

They met mine often but rarely talked,

Great warmth in her eyes dwelled,

I was neither so pained nor rocked,

I feared to find her smell,

But tried often to find her footprints,

On the light dust that compels,

The drinking summer to feel flint,

Then came the diversion of ways,

Growing will to talk was shattered in seconds,

With all the masses of regrets I waited days,

Countless I thought to make errands,

But for sigh of shivering eyes,

I lost those wills and anxiety to talk to her,

In the midst of happiness, I lost the guise,

That lovely ache with her memories blur,

When a source asks me of a wrapped intent,

I with a pen and some parallel row,

Ransack these thoughts decent,

And that so cold paradise soft glow.