“My Mary — Her Little Storms, Still Mine” (A Love That Sulks Before It Smiles)
Introduction : Some loves don’t shout—they sulk, stare, and steal your heartbeat instead. This poem is for the queen who gets mad… just to be loved more. For the little storms that end in smiles. For perfume gifts, dramatic silences, and moonlit arguments. For a fairy who chose to stay human—just for one heart. Welcome to my favorite kind of chaos: her.
This cover image represents the emotional core of “My Mary — Her Little Storms, Still Mine.” The queen stands quietly in her sulk, graceful yet distant, embodying the poem’s theme of silent storms and playful anger. Her gaze reflects unspoken questions, while the lover beside her smiles patiently, holding a perfume meant to soften the moment—just as described in the poem. The moonlit sky mirrors her shifting mood, partially hidden behind clouds, while the city lights below symbolize constancy and devotion. This image is not decorative; it visually translates the poem’s message that true love understands moods, waits through storms, and remains unwavering until the smile returns.
“My Mary — Her Little Storms, Still Mine”
(A Love That Sulks Before It Smiles)
My beloved, you’re the glow I need,
A quiet fire my heart must feed.
But don’t look at me that way today—
My heartbeat forgets how to stay.
When your eyes dive deep into mine,
My pulse takes flight, forgets all time.
My heart whispers softly, Allah, Allah,
What magic unfolds in my fairy’s drama?
Did I stumble, or miss your sign?
Forget a promise that’s only mine?
Or is this silence, sharp and still,
Just one of your playful skills?
Then it clears—the truth I know,
Your tiny drama, soft and slow.
You stand so quiet, saying it all,
Like a gentle deer that won’t move at all.
My heart admits what it always sees,
My Maryam’s sharp with clever ease.
Yet face to face, without a plan,
You turn childlike, softer than sand.
Why do small things make you mad?
Why do you sulk like I’ve been bad?
As if I’ve committed a crime so deep,
That even forgiveness falls asleep.
And my heart asks, honest and true,
Is my queen angry—or missing me too?
Is this storm real, or just a plea,
For my attention, quietly?
One thing’s certain, clear and strong,
You’ve ruled my heart for far too long.
No tone, no mood, no dramatic scene,
Could pull me away from my queen.
I won’t let go, I won’t step back,
I won’t loosen this chosen track.
Whatever you are, however you stand,
My place is here—holding your hand.
Then there’s your habit, sweet and bold,
Asking for gifts, stories retold.
Wrong or charming? I truly can’t say,
I chose you—every habit your way.
When I accepted your name and face,
I accepted every mood, every grace.
Because your habits don’t dim your light,
They make you more you, perfectly right.
Yesterday evening felt known and true,
That familiar look I get from you.
Like a lioness sizing her claim,
Before the hunt, before the flame.
“You’re late again—where were you?”
“With those useless friends, I knew.”
“And empty-handed? Explain to me—
Is this how you meet your queen?”
I laughed, “Hush now, lower your sound,
Or hospital lights will find us bound.
Not gifts, but cures will greet you soon,
My fierce, dramatic little moon.”
I told you how I walked and thought of you,
Wondering what could calm your heart in two.
Then I found a scent, gentle and true,
A perfume made only to remember you.
Something my rose-cheeked queen would wear,
Something that would keep me there.
Something that, with every time,
Would make you miss me—the way you’re mine.
The night was calm, my moon stood near,
But clouds of anger hid her clear.
So I whispered, soft and slow,
Step out, my love—let your light show.
Look at me with those loving eyes,
Smile a little, drop the disguise.
Take this scent, the way you took my heart,
From the very, very start.
Wear it once, and you’ll remember me,
Then maybe get mad—ironically.
And finally, like I always pray,
Your smile bloomed and chased clouds away.
“You never change,” you softly said,
“Still childish, still stuck in your head.”
Everything shifts, but you remain—
Just like childhood, just the same.
Morning and night, my heart still knows,
Your moonlit face, the way it glows.
Your laugh, your eyes, your golden hair,
Your rare kind of love beyond compare.
Your sulking, anger, little fights,
Your silent storms and sudden lights.
This is the girl who taught me how,
To live, to breathe, to love right now.
This is the moon that shines for me,
No borrowed light, just destiny.
A fairy who chose the human way,
And stayed right here—decided to stay.
A queen who storms with perfect cue,
So I may whisper how beautiful you’re too.
And when you smile, my heart gives in,
That smile dissolves all doubt and sin.
So listen close, my love, my queen,
To what my heart has always been.
Every dream starts where you are,
Every wish ends—exactly there.
To keep you smiling, soft and true,
I’ll always remain—forever yours.
Through every laugh, every little sigh,
Forever your love, your heart, your sky.
—Shahzad Sulaiman
Author’s Note (Summary) :
My Beloved, You’re the glow my heart can’t live without but don’t look at me like that. Because when you look at me this way—when you lock your eyes into mine—my heartbeat starts racing, and my heart begins to whisper, Allah, Allah… what has happened today to my fairy? Why is she looking at me like this? Did I make some mistake? Or did I forget something important?
But then, after a moment, your beautiful little playful antics make everything clear. I haven’t done anything wrong at all. My fairy simply wanted to show me her sweet drama today. That’s why she was staring at me so intensely, quietly—like a graceful deer standing still, watching, saying everything without saying a single word.
Sometimes my heart tells me that my Maryam is actually very clever and intelligent. But I don’t know why—whenever I come in front of her—she suddenly starts acting so childish. Why do you get upset over the smallest things? Why do you sulk so easily, as if I committed some unforgivable crime?
And then my heart asks itself honestly:
Is the queen of my heart really angry…
or is she just craving my attention again?
But one thing my heart knows for sure—you are the one who rules over it. And no matter how you talk to me, no matter how dramatic you become, no matter how you act with me, I will never let go of your hand, and I will never walk away from your side.
And then there’s this habit of yours—asking for gifts every other day. I honestly don’t know whether I should praise this habit of yours or tell you that it’s wrong. I truly don’t know. But what I do know is this: the day I accepted you, I also accepted every single habit of yours along with you. Because my heart knows that each of your habits only adds more beauty to you, not less.
Maybe that’s why yesterday evening felt so familiar. When I came to meet you, just like every other time, you looked at me with that look—the same look a lioness gives her prey right before hunting it down. And then you said,
“You never come on time. Always late. Where were you? Were you sitting with your useless, wandering friends again? And is this any way to meet someone? Empty-handed? What have you brought for your queen today?”
And when I replied,
“Hey, why are you raising your voice so much? You’ll ruin your throat, and then instead of a long drive, we’ll end up driving to the hospital. And instead of a gift, you’ll get medicines, my moody moon.”
Then I told you about the perfume. How, when I went to the mall, I kept thinking about what gift could calm your anger this time. And then I saw it. And my heart said, why not buy something for my rose-cheeked queen—something she would truly love, something that would make her miss me even more?
It was such a beautiful night, and my moon was right in front of me. But those little clouds of anger were hiding her glowing face from me. So I said softly, stop hiding behind the clouds. Look at me with those loving eyes of yours. Smile a little and accept this perfume—just the way you accepted my heart. Because every time you wear this perfume, you’ll remember me. And then maybe… you’ll get even more angry at me.
And then, finally, I got what I had been longing for—your blooming smile. And those words slipping from your lips just for me:
“Everything has changed, but you’re still the same—just like you were in our childhood days. You’ll never improve.”
Every morning and every night, when I think about your moonlit face, your lovely eyes, your laughter, your golden hair, your rare kind of love for me, your habit of sulking over little things, and your anger—my heart says:
This is the girl who taught me how to live.
This is the moon that only shines for me.
This is the heavenly fairy who came down to earth just so she could stay by my side.
This is the queen who gets upset with me every time, only so I’ll shower her with love and remind her how beautiful she is.
And when you smile, my heart whispers,
“My Maryam’s innocent smile is the cure to every poison for me.”
So my queen, listen to what my heart is saying now:
You are my never-ending love. Every dream of mine starts with you, and every wish ends with you.
And to see you happy and smiling, I will always remain yours—
forever.
Did this poem steal a smile from you?
Make your heart flutter… or remind you of that one person you’re definitely not supposed to be thinking about right now?
If it did, don’t be shy—drop their name in the comments below. I’d love to know whose heart this poem quietly knocked on.
And hey… why not share this poem with your special someone?
Maybe they’ll finally understand how deeply, wildly, and hopelessly you love them.
Who knows—this might even earn you a confession, whispered with teary eyes and a shy smile.
And if you’re curious to peek into more secrets of my heart, feel free to explore my other poems—
they’re all written with the same silly heart, the same foolish love, and the same honest chaos.
Disclaimer:
This poem is based on real-life moments and real emotions. All characters mentioned are inspired by real people. Maryam is a real person who holds a special place in the author’s heart, and this poem is written with her full knowledge and permission.This piece reflects lived experiences, not fiction. Please do not copy, reproduce, misuse, or alter this poem in any form. Respect this work as a personal expression of love and art.
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