Longing

An amorous poetess, in her reverence, wished to create a sonnet

For a quixotic beloved, a wraith in a realm veiled by enthymeme

She poured out crimson love into the words and all that they meant      

Twas a beautiful night as the powdery moonbeam brought a rhyme

To a rhapsody created on the glass panes by the Heavenly lament.

Her sonnet connoted the plight of her lonely heart, a dear desire

To bask in the fervor of  a rare rendezvous of soul mates in love

The quill dipped in ink fell down as she got lured into somnolence

A lone tear seeped out of her eye, it kissed the parchment in trance

The sonnet came to life, he appeared, the anatomy of romance

He gently wiped the kohl that had trailed down with the lone tear

And placed a tender, soul dissolving kiss on her satiny raven hair

She felt it, the vow of love and a smile brightened her pretty face

His heart ached with longing, twas the beginning of a fervid romance

Like him, in some other realm, she saw him writing a love sonnet

She smiled and watched him write his words with intense devotion

The conspiring Universe convulsed with the overwhelming emotion.

The maiden stepped into consciousness, ‘Twas him, he was here’

She thought, while the inebriated melancholic poet turned around,

‘Twas her, she was here’, he whispered, kissing the parchment of love.