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Credit: jeffeng2091.deviantart.com
Say my Name, slowly her voice breaks all silence She’s a frost of exquisite dust Eye’s glow, in a state of quiesence The wind blows, her hair sways Rhythm from an open hall She twist and turns like a Geisha Curves perfectly revealing Shape of a Jewish guitar With the strings of her mind I caress Like colours of an Art in the right places Lost in between the lines of her embrace Lips etched with a Thousand beautiful words She is the reason for my sight A post card from heaven The colours of the Night For every quarter past Seven    
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This article was first published on 21st September 2012

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