From the Times that Were and the Times that Weren’t
sea stones smooth and round
like the skin of her smiling face,
I hold them in my hands and feel
as if Love is singing a lullaby,
wrapping me in Her ethereal embrace.
Two Cups of Coffee
Two cups of coffee, long gulps and short sips,
a ritual of bitterness and joy.
an expanse of all that we have,
but only an inkling of all that we’ll have.
Dreams come and go, back and forth,
an exchange of perpetual longings
echoing in each other’s hearts and
bursting from the chaos of our frustration.
Erasure of time and memory
could not blur her dimpled smile.
The lost eons and dementia blights
dared not taint that eternal arch.
Waseem Sherif © 03-10/05/2016