The children are angels of love, pure innocence and life’s delight.
Children are the sweet feelings, refreshing like morning breeze.
The long waited for the lavish spring after enduring winter’s cold.
They are the waters that through the branches veins flow.
To give a new birth for the leaves and fruits to grow.
Where the birds of the sky build their nests,
And raise the new hatched chicks and soon to fly.
Children are the essence that nurtures the body.
They are flowers aroma which enchants the soul.
Children are the cooling shades where the tired ,
Ones find refuge from the sun and enjoy the rest.
(( Is there something sweeter than a new baby’s smile,or when a mother caresses her child ?)) Wishing you a happy and blessed thanksgiving day—My Gratitude and appreciation to the 2750 followers of my humble Blog.Jalal Michael Sabbagh-http://mysuccessisyoursuccess.wwordpress.com-
Children are angels of innocence and pure delight.
The sweet soft breathes of the mornings at sunrise.
The long awaited spring after a severe winter’s cold.
The waters that flow through the branches veins,
To produce new leaves,buds and lovely blossoms.
Where birds build their nests to raise their chicks.
The fruits that nurture the body ,the aromas for the souls.
The blissful laughs that refresh the hearts and minds.
The shades where the tired once take refuge and find rest.
The future’s light to brighten the lonely night ,
The hopes that gives new meanings to life,
The extension of our existence ,
The dream of every loving husband and wife.
Jalal Michael Sabbagh.http://firstname.lastname@example.org
Love and affection in the Arabian deserts captivates the deepest human’s senses and desires.Pure ,sweet yet so provocative.Loving a woman transcends even the point of admiration .Infatuated poets depict their passion like the phoenixes trying to reach the threshold of the heaven before they are exhausted ,before death captures their souls and die .Yearning , Love and compassion burn them to ashes yet from the ashes they rise again to their youthfulness .Their souls seem to be in existence as long before the universe was in existence.For as long their hearts beat they perpetually thrive.A poet is like a sparrow , but he doesn’t know how the sparrows live generation after generation ,how they build their nests or how they teach their chicks how to survive.The sparrows are mere wanderers,despite their freedom in the vast skies.The joyous melodic songs they hum to energize themselves to take all challenges of L i f e. The P o e t suffers the agony of loving a woman who doesn’t love him back or foresees his feelings,helplessness,remoteness and his solicitude that cuts like a knife .
My love you are not getting near,
And l can’t get close to you.
l am like a chick in a child’s palm .
He squeezes it between his fingers,
Causing the chick to suffer death’s bitterness.
The child is amused with his game,
Not knowing what he is doing or why.
And the Chick has no feather to set,
Itself f r e e a n d F l y .
((jalal Michael Sabbagh.http://email@example.com)),