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Oh! Patience, My Love.

Both, my eyes; have hit an unknown storm -
the undoer of my marry Spring,
beneath my brow, is a gushing form,
did a drench'd cheek -to a yearner bring.
my auguries, that once blessed with love,
have gales become, for a trial of;
the touchstone of my faithful shape -
the loyal shadow, when future rake,
does my pain emit, a cunning drape,
that when praise of love, the evils shake;
still, endure this I, to phase submit,
but, wit, my wit -is my patience fit,
are my gardens, for these storms to reave,
the fruits to come -of better degree;
Or will steadfast be love, if believe,
in shade of the fruitless, standing tree.
Maybe, the grandeur of love is not grand
unless we bear -our share of pains at hand.

R.N.Khan, © 2011

poem by Raja Nosherwan
Added by Poetry Lover
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