She In Desert Poem by Akhtar Jawad

A day in desert with a lovely woman,
May I describe it, yes, I think I can.
Her long brownish hair is spread at night,
Moon and stars are the sources of light.

And so her eyes and her beautiful face,
A source of peace and gorgeous grace,
Half hidden in hair appear like the moon,
Nature has gifted me a lovely boon.

The desert lacks flowers, the desert lacks rains,
But she is a beauty having no strains,
As she is enriched with the lovely cheeks,
Not black and barren, hills and peaks.

Her lips like petals of a lovely rose,
The style of sleeping in a sexy pose,
The landscape is same as at home,
As if she's sleeping under same old dome.

Her body has beauty of of dew on trees,
The movement of breasts with frequent breaths,
The stretched branches of round lovely arms,
Reminds me quakes and reminds the storms.

The stars are dancing and the moon smiling,
The night is romantic and the breeze exciting,
A day in desert is hot and tiring,
The artificial cold is at all not inspiring.

Everyone went out, passed night in roaming,
And the day so hot, is ruined in sleeping.
But the nights of desert have beauty and charms,
And arise inside many unseen storms.

The joy of a woman is a gift of nature,
And first plantation in soil of His creature.
Pass and enjoy and wish and dream,
Wherever I am I need her stream.

If she is with me I need nothing more,
The life is worship in her love and adore.
For love only love is purpose of life,
It is not a war or quarrel or strife.

Ganges or Ravi or Sindh have huts,
Have beauty of movement in the lovely cuts.
What else I get is fruitless and futile,
I don't need pyramids of the Nile.