As if it was a long drawn wait As if she is the known one The people’s sound And the sound of silence Pure pleasure of bondless Bondings That light The light of nipple flowers Upward Not in direction But in spin
As if it is a long drawn wait Of rotation Of mutation Are you seeking in the sought Or Are you the seeker of the sought Your gold face does not speak Did they say Did they not The purity of the pure dumbstruck That my mother is DANCING The pair of breasts Hers Erasing divides of rotation And Or Mutation En masse In the singularity Of the direction of Love.
Giving and receiving is bright when all the flowers make delight to brighten all the days sent in so many ways bouquets are rolled in different colours trailed with dressing of pink bows Hyacinths and Roses makes the most of
(1) A flower is a colorful scrabbling over a garden’s cheeks and a flying kiss into air. (2) A flower is a state of confusion, whenever a stigma erects up into a silky bed. (3) A flower is martyrdom on
Do not be a stranger come on and write. Your poems like flowers in the garden of life. When you are gone there is no sunshine around. So please be here because you are a wonderful scribe. Your words are
Evergreen Love never bows – to flowers from vixens. Poised by the warmth of two hearts; fighting gossip with kindness. It walks on trust between two souls- tracked by wolves lost to its fragrance! With honesty, it sheds greedy tendencies-
Right in the lap of dark blue hills With backdrop of snow capped peaks Blooms this fascinating garden Reflecting vibrance of Nature The mystique of flowery abundance Wraps the landscape in a charm With colors alluring and bright And sweet