The Home.... Poem by Shama Taimour Bukhari

A home I dreamt of,
I lived in with you.
The blessings and nature,
my garden will grow.
All the love will reside,
here, never to go.
We will be here for,
centuries or so.
My home, my love.
are nowhere to be found.
I am lonely old and tired,
no home I could see.
Wandering east to west,
and north to south.
Plains and deserts,
seashores and hills.
No home of mine, no love found.
No home to live, no one to love.
Me a gypsy, me a wanderer,
no heart and hence no love to be found....