Today I go to put down heartprints,
and if she says, 'I felt your touch.'
It is her sagacity to feel my love
touching her through her love.

A lady reluctant to face the limelight:
Just a pat to anyone makes him bright.
Poetry is her hallmark as has ever been
I smell and feel her like a fingerprint seen.

She is a cherub but without any wings
Gave very many a few precious things.
She is so sweet, so kind to one and all
Folks around her have a bravura ball.

She is self-possessed, tranquil like a bay,
Loves reading poems, passes all the day.
She brightens her time in a magical way,
Illuminate the skies for passing her way.

Syed Anwar Yarkhan Jilani

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thanksgiving-71/