(Iambic tetrameter)I recommend this poem. I happen to love it a lot and probably you will like it, too.
Wild flowers bloomed, adorning hopes;
in his conceived garden both laughed;
white smile of roses while she asked,
if she could stare at him on slopes.
A gypsy climbed beyond the ridge,
where nothing was but white thin clouds,
a bergamot and his mind's doubts,
have passed across his soul's time bridge.
The gypsy watched where forms vanish,
in air the town was hung and Halls,
where dancers smiled with saddened souls,
their merriment's manners lavish.
Amid the dancers brilliant laced,
graceful a Princess smiled to him,
the bergamot was there to hint,
that this transmittance was space-braced.
Beyond the ridge Angels wandered;
or were the clouds that turned to rain?
The bergamot sung a refrain,
on slopes cloud dancers sole pondered.
(The gypsy jumps above the ridge,
the gypsy laughs while dancers bow,
the splendid waltz transmits their glow,
a Princess waits upon time's bridge.)
Unspoken was she and the crags,
returned the bergamot's refrain;
Oh, her beatitude's soft rain,
washed down the slopes his verses sung.