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Palestine...My Love (Stan's Contest)
The waftures tempt my heart, I think of thee.
Your murmurs lure to meet my comely one.
Redolent air, it calls the love in me
I stroll to bathe beneath the summer sun.
The sea, the shores, and every little shell,
the prayer calls evoke an endless love.
The thyme, the lime and grains of sand shall tell
how much I miss the petrichor thereof.
Ephemeral the joy-evanescent.
The nemeses defeat in me the zeal.
Deprived, alike an orphan- mostly sent
a broken heart, I turn no chance to heal.