Monday, December 21, 2009
The scent of Mogra flowers were serenading
Through the air, diffusing into my senses.
The same adoring fragrance that emanated through
The showers of my day dreams, in your countenance.
Silvery lines cast shadows in the earth;
The Night Queens smiled in welcome.
Among the bluish pleats in the sarong of the moonlight,
I saw the furling of your long robe.
The silky waves of your dress moved away from my life
Like seared petals of withered days.
The beams of the moonlight turned into violin
Strings, and while the breeze caressed them
Produced melodious musical overtures.
I heard the timbre of your compliant voice
From the song sung by the silent night.
The tinkle of your golden anklet faded
Like wilted tender leaves from my dreams.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Wish if I could ever forget those moments;
Wish I could ever close the eyelids of my soul;
The agony of a flower discarded after
It was adorned on the locks of a maiden,
And the scorching sighs emanating in its mind;.
If I could ever fail to remember them!
Why did you blossom in plants that wither and die,
In the arid unclaimed waste land of life and
Become untouchable blossoms?
You are dreams pushed into the gutters of
Misery and anguish, where only melancholy reigns.
Infatuations and whims are flies hovering above
The fire and when the wings are scorched
Why hassle about it as a perpetual twinge;
Assuming the role of water birds floating
And swimming over the waves of misery?