I stand in the fields of dandelion,
waiting for you,
in a desires of million.
Your arrival adorns my face,
like a petal in a dew drop woven.
And it is then,
my heart feels stolen.
When your breath blows,
the dandelion and sits on my face,
making my shy countenance risen.
As we see the sun setting in the horizon.
Countenance - facial expression.
(Few lines by -- Falkiya Najam)
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