And the moonlight spills <br />from the dark drapes <br />of the cold starry night, <br />little frosted flowers <br />move slowly with the November breeze, <br />and the world is lost <br />in this eternal river of time; <br />the silent form of the passing moon <br />enthralls our silent gaze, <br />and your hand, <br />laced in mine, feels so warm; <br />happiness has no bounds tonight, <br />a joyous moment <br />in simple splendor, <br />is it the beauty of the moon or you, <br />that's making it so magical? <br /> <br />The music of silence <br />plays for long, <br />and the night and time <br />have frozen deep, <br />like painted flowers <br />that never move, <br />this memory shall ever live <br />as eternal as the moon.<br /><br />Amatulla Mohammadi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-frosted-memory/
