Do ye not notice?
That I have something to tell, that goes like these
But was never said I a reminisce?
I always search for the right time
To tell thee, but I have shame
For myself to blame
Pretending not to notice
What are mines missing piece
I serenely command for a celestial cease.
I command the soil to be very nutritious
For plants to grow generous
And to bloom flowers that are too gorgeous.
And when they’ve bloomed
Even for a while, ye never gazed
And unhappily, they got withered.
On that day of winter
Sev’n winter hana
Have bloomed only for thee.
Lavender, winter rose, paper daisy
With daphne, hadenbergia and kaffir lily
But because of thee, their beauty has been unworthy.
You’re so cruel they may say
That ye never stare ev’n at their last day
Wherein my heart felt no gay.
I wrote my message in an old paper
And sealed it in a bottle very proper
Then I threw it in the sea to prosper.
I told the water to hand ye the bottle,
And not to make any tattle,
Ev’n it can make thee rattle.
It did as I said, accurately
And ye have it merely
But I never knew that ye will treat it disdainfully.
You never had enough
That ye threw it back to the sea
Wherein my heart feels very lonely.
I ask the sun with its good mood
Not to be very rud,
In kissing off thy gentle skin that soothe.
And enveloping the sun gleams
Are my message through the beams
For thee that might seems –
A nd when the gleams touches thy skin
Ye ignored the dew so keen
That it becomes dim.
I whispered my message to the wind
For it to tell thee what’s on my mind
If ye wouldn’t mind.
It is my love for thee
And it’ll never ever flee
Unless I have thee.
The wind blows and it whispered my message
But ye never heard it
‘Cause you’re thinking of “Someone Else.”
Do ye not notice my affection
That I would give my full devotion
Only for my secret passion?
Amidst the beauty of moonlight
I tried to make everything right
But it won’t work that I can’t make it bright.
My servants tell me to promptly confess
For my heart not to be too oppress
But I’m afraid that I would mess.
If I’ll tell thee the pleas I bare
And the feelings for thee that’s too rare
Will ye care?
Are ye prepare
To love me pure
And make my heart cure?
By
Red.Apple
That I have something to tell, that goes like these
But was never said I a reminisce?
I always search for the right time
To tell thee, but I have shame
For myself to blame
Pretending not to notice
What are mines missing piece
I serenely command for a celestial cease.
I command the soil to be very nutritious
For plants to grow generous
And to bloom flowers that are too gorgeous.
And when they’ve bloomed
Even for a while, ye never gazed
And unhappily, they got withered.
On that day of winter
Sev’n winter hana
Have bloomed only for thee.
Lavender, winter rose, paper daisy
With daphne, hadenbergia and kaffir lily
But because of thee, their beauty has been unworthy.
You’re so cruel they may say
That ye never stare ev’n at their last day
Wherein my heart felt no gay.
I wrote my message in an old paper
And sealed it in a bottle very proper
Then I threw it in the sea to prosper.
I told the water to hand ye the bottle,
And not to make any tattle,
Ev’n it can make thee rattle.
It did as I said, accurately
And ye have it merely
But I never knew that ye will treat it disdainfully.
You never had enough
That ye threw it back to the sea
Wherein my heart feels very lonely.
I ask the sun with its good mood
Not to be very rud,
In kissing off thy gentle skin that soothe.
And enveloping the sun gleams
Are my message through the beams
For thee that might seems –
A nd when the gleams touches thy skin
Ye ignored the dew so keen
That it becomes dim.
I whispered my message to the wind
For it to tell thee what’s on my mind
If ye wouldn’t mind.
It is my love for thee
And it’ll never ever flee
Unless I have thee.
The wind blows and it whispered my message
But ye never heard it
‘Cause you’re thinking of “Someone Else.”
Do ye not notice my affection
That I would give my full devotion
Only for my secret passion?
Amidst the beauty of moonlight
I tried to make everything right
But it won’t work that I can’t make it bright.
My servants tell me to promptly confess
For my heart not to be too oppress
But I’m afraid that I would mess.
If I’ll tell thee the pleas I bare
And the feelings for thee that’s too rare
Will ye care?
Are ye prepare
To love me pure
And make my heart cure?
By
Red.Apple