The Boy With His Guitar
Putting his little fingers,
on the strings of his guitar,
a serene boy looked to the sky,
pointed his eyes to stars,
while the night growing in dreams,
he brought his art to extremes,
and notes began floating to the heavens,
the empty silence filled all,
with sweet rhythm of his thought,
and dew drops coming down like mists,
and musk of heavens,
soothing around,
he paused for a while,
and told me with a smile,
my mother is living with stars,
she loves my guitars,
when i play my guitar,
she makes tears of dew,
i see her in colors and hue.
poem by Rafique Farooqi
Added by Poetry Lover
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