I sit here to write a poem
On what your love means to me
My hands shiver with fear of injustice
That I might do with my poetry

Yet my heart beats loud
The lavender paper waits
It is a fort I must conquer
Triumph should rule at my gate

Should I write of the diamonds in your eyes
Or the purity of your soul
Perhaps the magic of your thoughts
Maybe the enigma that you hold?

I wish I were good at this
I wonder where to start
All I know is that I love you
What more can I impart?

I regard them as geniuses
Who have swum through poetic seas
But I, a simpleton in love,
Can only try but never succeed

I envy those who know this trade
Who write the right things with flair
They excel in the game of words
While I sit here and crib in despair

An hour, then two, then three and four
The paper still blank before me
I give up hope of doing the task
I can't do it, I solemnly agree

I throw the pen and tear the sheet
I don't need 'this' to prove my love to thee
I'll make you mine and love you for a lifetime
Now that you know is sheer poetry.

~Gursimran~