A poem I wrote at 17 when the Boy had gone to Kashmir and my teenage heart was missing him
|I’m jealous of the sun
Burning bright in the sky.
She warms you in her embrace
Ev’n from her palace up high.
I’m jealous of the moon
As she bathes you with her light.
She is witness to your beauty
In that darkness of the night.
I’m jealous of the stars
For their splendour and their dazzle.
They capture your heart by night
And fill your eyes with wondrous sparkle.
I’m jealous of the clouds
Floating by like softest cotton
As they shield you and protect you
As a beloved would have done.
I’m jealous of the wind
That has the liberty and pleasure
To trace her fingers through your hair
And whisper softly in your ear.
I’m jealous of the raindrop
That slithers down your cheek.
Her fancy falls on you at random,
She knows not what your love means.
I’m jealous of the breeze
That with iciness sublime
Touches you much too close,
Wish that ecstasy was mine.
I’m jealous of the flower
That distracts you with her beauty
As she disperses her sweet scent,
Strong perfume, intoxicating.
I’m jealous of the lake
Which like a sparkling looking glass,
By pure reflection does impress, but
Her love is fleeting, it won’t last.
I’m jealous of the mountain
Her majesty unequalled,
That with splendour so alluring
Leaves your wonderment conquered.
I’m jealous of the others
Who are with you at this moment.
Do they know you. Do they love you.
Do they cherish all that time spent.