Winter is an Unraveled Secret…



bland days
like blank, crumpled sheets
of muted amnesia,
are bracketed within
parched lip morns cuddled
within warm affections
of cozy mink blankets,
and your honeyed caresses,
twilights abloom in wisterias
and nights echoing in whispers
of flimsy snowflakes,
with a lingering flavor
of sweet peas and mandarins.


daffodils are nascent dreams
in slumber under soil
within oblivion of bulbs,
like a pearl inside
oyster’s dark uterus
beneath hurling tides of sea,
or a lunar eclipse
which hides radiance
as a closed fist,
while skies wrinkled in clouds
yearn for topaz blaze
of summer sun and hues of fall
emblazoned both as
prologue and epilogue of
chapter of daylight.

cherry blossoms

a tired yawn
sighed over stale sheets
on mornings clad in powder puffs
of milky, opaque mists,
is an epitome of winter
which is ache of frozen limbs
melted by borrowed heat
from furnaces aflame in cinders,
it is faded memory of old age
strewn in sepia fragments,
transience of cherry blossoms
withered in abbreviated moments
from fingers of longevity,
are like winter daylight
brief and mellow, fringed
in blackberry nights.


2 thoughts on “Winter is an Unraveled Secret…

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