Dear love

Under the panoply of pale stars

dear love, close your eyes,

hold my hand, to float fearlessly,

in the blue river of moonlight;

Soak the flames of the heat,

the heart that emits,

trailing the million love wishes,

that flash onto the skyline of our dreams;

Inhale, intensely, this reverie,

that my mind slowly dips in ,

who knows what tomorrow brings in,

for you and I ;

Dear love

Under the panoply of pale stars

dear love, close your eyes,

hold my hand, to float fearlessly,

in the blue river of moonlight;

Soak the flames of the heat,

the heart that emits,

trailing the million love wishes,

that flash onto the skyline of our dreams;

Inhale, intensely, this reverie,

that my mind slowly dips in ,

who knows what tomorrow brings in,

for you and I ;

Does love seek closure?

If letting go is love,

I let you go,

but I held close,

your aery passion,

in the poems you

mused me in;

If love is silence,

I have mastered it,

but I have pilfered

your meringue voice,

and breathed it

into my muted words;

If absence is your love,

then murmurous moments,

of you and I, is mine,

dyed in our love,

I have painted memoirs

into graffiti of verses.

Love is endless

This couldn’t be the end,

for love cannot be tamed by a period, 

carelessly  placed when the hearts leisured in a half stillness of a lonely siesta; 

Her eyes spoke of love, like his,

she expressed it with silence, 

he had no voice to lend,

but a passionate whisper of love 

that they both heard, remained unheard by those around them; 

 

Slow moving cloud, 

riding the gentle zephyr carrying the fragrance of sweetbrier,

ran through her quiet cheeks, 

but left his lips wet,

with a taste of her poems, 

blushing in red. 

That was the kind of love they lived.

Unknown, unsaid, quiet but heartfelt.

Distinct, infinite, placid but incomplete. 

Who says intense love seeks an end? 

Poem of soul

A  seamless poetry, 

Is an engaging conversation 

between a set of metaphors and 

untamed words, etched on virgin sheets.

A paradisiacal relationship,

Is an impeccable expression of 

silence and thoughts, put in a

conversation. 

A flawless love,

Is a quiet touch, with desires curling 

out a peaceful sigh and intimate affection between two souls, 

where words play no role. 

I am to you …

I lie here thinking of you everyday,

Less than Stanley’s crimson, to morning 

Less than the pathos of wind, to trees

Less the clouds decrepit, to rains

Less than the gossamer’s intricacy, to love

I am to you . 

I lie here thinking of you everyday,

More than dews on edge of leaf, to hope

More than birds perched on trees, to dusk,

More than busy boulevard, to spring

More than wet new wind, to rains. 

I am to you. 

Words..

Word on word, 

And a thought incarnates 

As a poem 

Dream on dream 

And a wondrous gateway opens

Up to a new day 

Heart on heart

And a sweet love is conceived 

With heartstrings strumming 

Notes of love

Hope on hope 

And the darkness drifts 

Under the auspices of light ! 

June.. you bring hope

I pinned a few poems on the vivid sky of June,

and set a few free into the ageless breeze,

Amidst the season’s tide, 

I let a few float,

and in pleasant petals of peonies and daisies, I let a few settle as nascent dew, 

A few were strewn with joyous memories of soundless winter moon, 

and a few planted a kiss on 

the blossomed youth of summer,

A few melted on the enchanting beauty of nature, 

and a few made the lovers melt for their sweethearts. 

I placed a few poems in the murmurs of June… 

Reminiscent of love

Reminiscent of love, the soundless rhythm, 

Reminiscent of shreds of muslin, the accidental clouds,

Reminiscent of restless bird, the flipping heart,

Reminiscent of ache, a lover’s careless smile

Reminiscent of winter rain, the fierce emptiness,

Reminiscent of colours, the September sunset,

Reminiscent of wishes, the mute stars

Reminiscent of life, the humdrum beats,

Reminiscent of past, the ruins.

Hydrangea

In the hues of purple, blues and pinks,

you placed a bunch of hydrangeas where love left a void, 

I would have never known those colours, could speak in language of  love,

in their muted expression,

had they not to cajoled my heart with their honeyed words.