The lost page...

It always a different name

But she plays it all again just to hault to yours

It never begins with the sight of your face
But she does all to sleep to your good night

They wonder for the moon to rise so as to sleep
A few just to sneak the day to night
But she tries to have a longer night just to talk and dream about you

They sneak their stories from their mom
Buf she talks to her about her's stories so as to imagine good old days with you
As certain beautiful things are just changing

The dairy is locked for the world
The words inked their are poems to the world
But she plans for days where you would be reading them,
When she is fast asleep
They won't be poems to you
Rather would be statement from your wife to be fulfilled or lived by her side

You might have lived your best by the side of girl who took your heart
But may the worst smoked through the crigrates
Are to be lived rejoiced by her side

Traveling the world you might have enjoyed the delicacies and the heights of colored mountains stretching high to the skies
But she had buried a thought to view all the scenes with you

May be , may be you are chef of the kitchen
But she wants to taste the chapati mirrioring the map
The gravy with more of salt then water
And declare it to be the best

You might be a early bird unlike the rest sleeping beauties
But on some morning she want to get to the sun high enough for good mornings
So as to see you relaxing with stretched smile rather than wrinkled forehead

To the moon she shys this each night
Requesting the ink to drink more of his compliments and pen just the rock
But the ink denies as well 
And she sleeps curshing her love for you