The Open Window

The Rose of love fills my heart,
when thoughts of you drift like mornings mist.
It is a passion you fill me with,
my rational senses cannot resist.
A breeze fans the raphia,
clouds mingle like memories of Algeria,
that float with sweet scented spices.
The murmur of the market, the call from minaret-
The thousand nights spent with you,
that smile, your touch, the stories,
never will I forget,
but that was long ago, and this another day.
With words of love I write to you,
to Arcadia you choose to fly away.
A yellow bird sits on waving frond palm,
there he sings his lonesome melody.
Those sad notes he sings, stirs even more
the emotions so deeply embeded in me.
For me, there is no other, a thousand reasons why,
come home to me my love, or this beast will surly die.
The thorn of pain, well worth the gain-
please, no more time to tarry.
Stand face to face with me my love,
it is this gentled beast that you should merry.