Dearest One Poem by Sandra Feldman
Dearest One
The One I love,
Is kind and sweet,
Cherries in Summer,
In Winter, Wheat.
The One I love,
Does not know it yet,
And that is because,
We have never met.
In the coming Future,
When love will be,
What love has to be,
The Flowers will blossom,
Giving fruit to the tree,
The true rebirth,
Sought incessantly.
Ah... One can only hope this is to be... and how profoundly fortunate the lucky he. (A beautiful No.1800!)
The fantasy that I would imagine most people have had at one time or another; the perfect partner, idealized (and more than likely nonexistent.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:30:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Beautiful waiting and longing for love. Love it! I hope it visits soon my dear. :)