O, You running clouds! Go to that farthest land <br />and heal her wounds with consoling words. <br />She cries and pleads to get free <br />from the care of hard core Fathers. <br />She wants me to take her as my wife and partner <br />and is ready to transfer her inherited money <br />to my account and herself to my country. <br />I don't want her or her wealth <br />as one will corrupt my honesty <br />and the other my grateful, febrile heart. <br />I wish God who had saved me <br />many-a-time from the gnawing death, <br />should liberate her from the den <br />and lend her His Hand to settle there around. <br /> <br />May wise thoughts and fresh floods <br />fill my account at heart to swell and swill <br />into poems to melt the stony hearts <br />and cause her release from the dungeon. <br />I am not a money-grubbing man or a sinner <br />to lose all my morals and put aside my conscience. <br />If she beats her chest about <br />betrayal of her trust later, <br />I can't bear it with my weak heart. <br />Her contemptuous scowl or her painful silence <br />would stop my heart for ever. <br />If she thinks of my decision later <br />and thanks me with beatific smiles, <br />that will comfort this mournful soul.<br /><br />rajendran muthiah<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-honey-trap-gives-me-the-jitters/
