Never seen again

Shamsul Alam Belal :
With a vacant look to the sky, she was sitting under the eaves
And soon a light rain blew,
Dashed against her wrinkled face,
Drenched her transparent bright dress,
Then blossomed the medley of golden treasure to a Poet’s eye.

She smiled with deep lines
On her face, threw the sharp eyes
With a fondled look livelier than roses,
Soon a show of pleasing modesty flashed upon the Poet’s face,

As if the spring is embracing the myriad mountain,
Light clouds are flying aimlessly from left to right
And the red, yellow, blue and purple wild flowers
Are dotting the green carpet shadowed by the Sun’s fiery rays.