Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The night has not swooned and slept,
But still awake and the petals of the eyelids
Were ajar, and the shadows shortened
As the flame on the lamp weakened
On the florid bed, stretched out by the mind.
The night was young, and sleep defying.
The night blossoms crept through my window,
And kissed my fingers with love.
I gathered my dress that came off
And laid it on my lap, and then realized
It was the moonlight that fell on my bed.
Immersed in reveries I forgot everything.
The dawn stole the golden hue of the day break,
Wearing the bangle of the spring moonlight.
The doves of early sun, carried nectar
Searching the blooms of the season,
As you groped for me, on the bed.
The whole blue sky was embedded on a dew drop;
A superb spring was inlaid in a tiny flower..
Happiness arising as a nebulous cascade,
Deep in the chasm of the heart, through your smile.
The golden grandeur of a morning sky reflected
The vermillion on your forehead.
Twin blue ’ Pisces’ glided tardy in the depth of your eyes.
The darkest night roosted quiescent in your hair.
The tear drops on the rosy cheeks resembled
Golden scripts of love sonnets dormant in your heart.
The tinge of your body challenged the moonlight
And Sandal paste; or was it alabaster?