Tears, Idle, Tears

Batool Idrish posted under Tale-a-thlon S4: Poetry on 2024-08-31



Each silver drop that falls like midnight's dew 

Sliding down your ruddy cheek, is no tear

‘Tis silver dust sparkling through blue night sheer

Each drop, I'll gather, tomorrow to shew.


When the tempest’s gone, the sky powder blue,

Of another  joyous day you will hear.

Casting away yesterday's gloomy fear,

Child, laugh and play each moment do not rue.
 

***

Tomorrow's morn, when you are a famed man 

You'll pine for that lost childhood, away- gone!

And none will be able to cross that span.

A time gone, you'll rue, how green was that lawn,

Each moment is the universe’s plan

Each day past is shorn, when the  present is born.