Flowing down like a stream,
From the ocean of thy beautiful eyes.
In sorrow or joy,
It flows, yet without a cry.
With the gentle touch on thy soft skin,
It moves towards your lips,
As she eagerly waits to soak, every little drip.
Now and always you command your hand
To wipe out these tears,
And seldom you allow it to touch
Your lips, so red and so pure.
It falls again and again,
Yet, never let the ocean dry,
From the first till the last,
It drips, like a serenading lyre.
I wonder, sometimes,
Standing, staring at you.
Watching those magical teardrops fall
Why? I have no clue.
Sanjiv Khati
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beautiful-tears/
