A poem I wrote at 17 when the Boy had gone to Kashmir and my teenage heart was missing him |
I’m jealous of the sun Burning bright in the sky. She warms you in her embrace Ev’n from her palace up high. I’m jealous of the moon As she bathes you with her light. She is witness to your beauty In that darkness of the night. I’m jealous of the stars For their splendour and their dazzle. They capture your heart by night And fill your eyes with wondrous sparkle. I’m jealous of the clouds Floating by like softest cotton As they shield you and protect you As a beloved would have done. I’m jealous of the wind That has the liberty and pleasure To trace her fingers through your hair And whisper softly in your ear. I’m jealous of the raindrop That slithers down your cheek. Her fancy falls on you at random, She knows not what your love means. I’m jealous of the breeze That with iciness sublime Touches you much too close, Wish that ecstasy was mine. I’m jealous of the flower That distracts you with her beauty As she disperses her sweet scent, Strong perfume, intoxicating. I’m jealous of the lake Which like a sparkling looking glass, By pure reflection does impress, but Her love is fleeting, it won’t last. I’m jealous of the mountain Her majesty unequalled, That with splendour so alluring Leaves your wonderment conquered. I’m jealous of the others Who are with you at this moment. Do they know you. Do they love you. Do they cherish all that time spent. |