Nascent Motherhood

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baby in the womb

Within amber realms
of anonymity and ambiguity,
lost in slumber of innocence
a soul awaits
the moment of discovery
of life’s versatilities and intrigue.

a tiny heart pulsates
like the dialogue
of clock’s garrulous hands,

while tiny hands and feet
curled as petals in a calyx
flutter at times to etch
tired smiles of maternal bliss,
making her yearn
for that bittersweet moment
of burgeoning anticipation.

crocheting dreams
on loom of complacent insomnia,
she speaks to the one
who swims within enceinte contours,
crooning lullabies
and sharing thoughts and feelings,

aware that the hour looms
when these umbilical ties
would be severed to
gather a new dimension
as a part of her body and soul
finds the angel wings of life…

womb

 

Kick of Candy

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baby in womb

Sailing within realms
of amniotic complacence
while anxieties soared outside
like moods of barometric mercury,
you were seemingly
too lazy to bother with
a breast or butterfly stroke
inside aureate fluidities,
while I eagerly awaited
that softly knocked greeting
which’d strum a caramel rain-song
on frowning lips of worry.

stock-footage-human-baby-in-mother-s-womb

Palms cold and clammy,
sought to feel the faintest of moves
tracing enceinte contours,
as murmured prayer was
whispered in ears of taut silence,
brine filled eyes
refused to shed tears lest they
be a harbinger of ill omen,
the clocks tick tattooed drum beats
as apprehension mounted
and anxious limbs sped towards
alleys of recourse or remedy.

baby-moving-inside-womb

The echo of heart beat
was placating and musical sounding
through maze of inanimate wires,
as a hesitant smile dawned
reminiscent of crescent moon
on tempestuous night-skies,
reassuring, professional words revealed
your innocent mischief

baby_foot

and with no bitter pills to swallow
sucking a proffered éclairs
and pockets full of chocolate I returned
with you now apparently
riding an imagined bicycle inside
revitalized to spurn lethargy
after the sumptuous kick of candy.

Pregnant-woman-eating-chocolate

baby_kick

Story of a Leaf

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young leaf

born by unfurling
on some misty, dewy morn
of pouring honeydew,
from chartreuse axillary bud
this leaf spun rhapsodies
of echoing rustles,
with others on tree’s arms.

fluttering leaves

it fluttered in the wind,
with the swaying boughs
and danced in the rain
as elixir splattered on verdure,
it was spun with another
to form cradle for tailor birds,
and was adorned in dewdrops
every aureate morning.

leaf in rain

the ripe fruit or pretty flower
played hide and seek
behind this green curtain,
and caterpillars fed on
its tender sinews with leisure,
nibbling its form until
the pupa made it a butterfly.

catterpillar

then fall brought its array
of golds, reds and yellows,
splashing its on the green form,
and the leaf was now
pantomiming as a petal,
aroma of cinnamon in its breath
as though tainted by sunshine,
caressed by photons’ fingers.

autumn leaves1

and finally an autumnal sun
of mellowed warmth,
witnesses its fall on sidewalk,
to become just another
tangerine confetti of fall,
or the honeyed moon saw
it withering from its twig
and it floats in the embrace
of breeze to mingle in dust…

Memories of Blackberries…

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blackberries

 

their sweet-sour, tangerine flavor,
still lingers on my tongue, no longer dyed
in eager gluttony of naiveté

girl blue sky

 

 

as eyes lost in infinite azure, read
thoughts perched as praying mantis
on foliage’s palms-
travelling trail of forgotten reminiscences.

reborn, with a look at shriveled arms,
of a dying sentinel, gnarled, twisted
standing as a frozen sigh,
pleading unto cerulean heavens

 

as half dried leaves taste autumn’s bane
in monsoon’s season, of rejuvenation
insipid blackberries are tasted by cicadas,
or left to stink in downpours.

blackberries1

 

 

 

thoughts’ pastels paint sepia realms, of a memory,
of another tree laden with juicy blackberries,
whose flavor blended, in my lost childhood
blurring my eyes, at plight
for this unfamiliarly familiar tree…

jamun

 

 

 

Dreams of a Frozen Lake…

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frozen lake

the frozen lake
sleeps under candy-floss skies
of a shivering winter,
hibernating under sugary caresses
of wispy snowflakes,
while a lenient winter sun
is too busy munching on honeydews
to melt her reservations.

Frozen lake nature landscape - Google Plus Cover

she is sleeping beauty
lost in an eternal slumber awaiting
unconsciously for golden kiss
of a daffodil sun of springtime,
unaware of the mist curtains
which hang over her meditations,
and the feet which tread
over her frosted somnolence.

frozen lake 1

frail colors of blanched winter
freckle her mirrored silences in smiles
like volatile rainbow sighs,
while she indulges in fluid dreams
of sun rays in aureate stilettos
waltzing over her dulcet ripples
as she preens in her versatile silks
like a poetry of blue-green syllables
echoing in crystal couplets.

frozen lake 2

she dreams of balmy summer afternoons
kissed by palm fronds swaying
in breeze scented in mango blossoms,
while a canoe sails over sapphire realms
its rowing arms scattering
a saccharine music over the quiet,
and laughters splintering
like glass bangles on the oars.

frozen lake3

she has fragrant dreams,
reverberating with scents from meads
or tangerine melancholy
voiced in muted whispers of autumn,
as changing visage of seasons
is reflected in her altering moods,
and clad in iced silhouettes of winter
she reminiscences about the past.

frozen lake4

fantasies enshroud her siestas
she dreams of twilight’s colors smeared
over her turquoise crumples in
liquid flames of gold,purple,cerise,
like reiterations of a day’s introspections
of lotuses abloom in redolent pinks
and water hyacinths flowering in mauve
over her symphonies of fluid blue.

frozen lake5

she dreams of cavorting fishes,
caught in fish net preoccupations,
as simple folk songs of fishermen dissolve
their bliss in the tranquility of mute eventides,
of tiara nights entrenched in opal moon
and fireflies sprinkling nights in sparkles,
which are echoed on her satin ripples
while she holds a wrinkled moon in her palm,
as winter’s opacities engulf her sinews.

frozen lake6

Elegy to a Lost Morn…

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the morning blessed
in fluid graffiti poetics,
bursting as photon sprinkles
from a rising sun
stretching aureate limbs
over vain breasts of blue hills,
sighs a fragrant aubade
over the dozing landscapes.

lurking vestige
of crescent moon on azure,
is like a lingering dreamy sigh,
a faded arc of eucalyptus skin
glued over splattered acrylics,
the pole star glows
like winter’s orphaned ember,
a radiant beacon of relentless hope
or just a voyeur eye
of the long erased inky night.

the lemon blossoms
freckled in sparkling dew shake
wet faces to dry citrus petals,
night jasmines wither
to salt grass blades in perfume,
and frangipani with
glowworms fisted in sublime depths
seek to adorn morns in smiles.

but shriveled as
a muted, sepia autumn song,
its garrulous words
replaced by placid silences,
the morn of honeyed benedictions
is tainted in pollution’s fumes,
bruised and smudged,
its purity blasphemed, molested
as a virgin’s chastity,
by callous talons and fangs
of a bedeviled, haunting phantasm,
she is a lost dream
yearning for rejuvenation,
from indifferent faces…

Sky is a Kaleidoscope…

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winter morn5

peppermint sighs
of a sheepish winter sun
hastily munching away icicles in morn,
while shivering in caramel kisses
of sugared snowflakes,
are frosted over organza skies
in soft cerise and mauve syllables,
as cherry blossoms and wisterias
in fragrant bloom.

tempest skies1

the bipolar moods
of monsoon tempests are scrolled
in mascara swirls on the infinite blue~
punctuated in thunder trumpets
and lightning intuition,
this is like an epistle of adieu scribed
in peppered droplets of emotions,
a love story writ in bittersweet words
with a happy epilogue
radiant in ribbons of rainbows.

summer noon1

the noons of sultry summers
are gaudy as loud echoes of laughter,
that filter through foliage
like fingers of intrigue to tapestry
preoccupations like chiaroscuros,
stern sun pours tequila
over landscapes in aureate ripples,
as sailing lily-petal clouds
try to mellow harshness of sunshine
and brooks preen ornamented
in golden filigree.

twilight sky1

crepuscules of whimsy
are like embroidered silhouettes of fall
transiently aglow on cerulean heights,
as though a memory is revived
in a tender moment of reflection,
only to be buried in anonymity of past,
just as Medusa of nocturne
gulps away colorful fluidities of dusk,
while avian cacophony prophesies
contrasting quietudes of impending night.

night sky

velvet obscurities of night
sequined in platitudes of faint starlight,
with a singular opal moon gilded
on stark darkness of midnight,
like a sparkling pearl within oyster’s womb,
stardust is sprinkled on cosmic mysteries
to compose versatile vignettes of dreams,
this sky is like a fairytale with
a princess moon awaiting in shackles
for the golden warrior to rescue at dawn.

Moods of a Winter Morning

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winter morn

pine needles salt
verdant blades of rustling poetry,
on marmalade winter morns
tinged in cerise tinted humilities,
like wisps of snowflakes
from tattered cloudy pillows
caressing parched cheek wrinkles
scratched in frost’s fingernails
in surreal honeydew kisses.

winter morn1

the morning is a faded manuscript
with illegible words shivering
on parched blankness of frozen moments
like blue annotations
of cyanosis on frostbitten silences,
while autumn disrobed trees
are draped in frozen quietudes
as they indulge in dreams
of weaver birds nurturing posterities
within fertilities of flimsy clouds,
and cranes meditating over azure glitters
to gather nature’s psalms from
golden fingers of lukewarm sunshine.

winter morn2

frost freckled glass window-panes
wink at mornings aromatic in
roasting marshmallows on cozy fireplaces,
pink roses bloom on vines
like sinuous lines of scribbled poetry
peppered in snowflake sighs
of a lethargic morn in January,
and fuming cups of eggnog lattes served
in chilled minutes, crisp as frost
blend like incense mingling
in the temple’s sinews of piety.

winter morn3

skies are crocheted in abstract fluidities
like a poet’s scribed imagination,
at twilights piquant in spicy roasted potatoes,
sweet peas taste like reunions
with long lost friends on a starved tongue,
adding flavor to evenings insipid
like cold bowls of soups forgotten on
table tops ignored in preoccupied business,
while crumpled blankets on the bed
lure moods with promise of sleepy lethargy…

winter morn4

Eulogies to the Forgotten…

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orchids

1.Orchids
within scaling crusts
from oft ignored arms
of silent benevolence,
flimsy roots spread
as octopus tentacles,
struggling for survival:

sapping vitality
from dying sinews
of antiquity, lost
within misty recollections
of frenzied storms of old-

to blossom into
vibrant hues,
breathing exotic scents
and wearing
with panache,

illusion of unsullied
dewy, innocence-
unknown to callous life.

2.Eucalyptus

eucalyptus

alabaster skin peels off
as cheap acrylics,
revealing hidden blemishes
for world to sneer at,
yet elegant complacence
endures, under
sun’s scorching critique-

of tainted presence,
sparse foliage;
dancing to rhythm
of taunting winds,
in tranquil contentment
of life’s little pleasures.

3.Penaga lily

penaga lily

familiar trees that stood
lining serpentine path,
of gravel and puddles
to my homestead

with satin leaves
of roseate pink
like sea shell’s bellies,
seemingly,
kissed by virgin rays
of vermilion dawn-
turning green with age;

and sublime flowers
rancid yet gay,
with gaudy yawns,
thick olive foliage
seldom dry, of
whimsical raindrops,

echoing with
sparrows’ chirps,
and cuckoo’s songs;
adorned my childhood
in delight’s confetti-
always reminiscent
to me

as nascent, first love
in nature’s boudoir.

4.Gooseberries

gooseberries

green, sweet-sour,
tangy and shiny-smooth,
bit with gluttonous delight
to savor, with water
turned paradoxically sweet,

collected in stained kerchiefs
oblivious to gritty palms,
sweaty brows, skinned knees
treasured in bulging pockets;
bite of delight
at times turned into
grimace, when greed
plucked raw bitterness,

paying the price
for impatience,
and selfish indifference-
inherent of juvenile
single-mindedness.

5.Touch Me Not

touch-me-not

dewy, luxuriant leaves
furl in silent subservience,
fading into insignificance
at subtle brush,
of trampling juggernaut-

concocting illusion
of terrified cowardice:
an instrument of survival
against the unsurmountable-

to savor sprinkled
sips, of sunlight’s manna
stroking insatiable egos
of approaching trouble,
to bask in breeze’s kisses.

6.China Rose

china rose

those cheery blossoms
of scarlet and fuschia,
grinning in sweltering heat
or rainy downpours,

resplendent with smiles
at gloomiest of hours,
enthroned on straggling arms
of olive foliage,
rightfully, queen of topics;

left a song echoing
on heart strings,
strummed with
invisible fingers of joy,

-a contagious rapture
of being alive,
and celebration of
elusive blessing of life.

7.Flamboyant

flamboyant tree

tree with gigantic boughs
a canopy of frond-like foliage
with refulgent peacock flowers

colors of phoenix’s plumage,
autumn’s frills, twilight’s wink
and dawn’s yawn;

frozen on redolent flowers,
reminiscent of school life
-long leather-bound
in memories’ albums,

that wither to quilt,
bosom of unrevered earth,
with fragrant gratitude:

for selfless love,
nurturing warmth,
eternal nourishment,
throughout life.

8. Harsinghars

harsingar

white and saffron
blended in loving hymeneals
of daylight and moonbeams
at variegated twilight,

scented in wistful hopes
of a perfumed spring day, to bask
in fragrant verses of
night jasmine long withered
on dawn’s threshold in reverence.

they are like dreams
that wilt with rising sun
and are left forgotten
lost within sepia realms
of bittersweet memories.

strung into garlands,
or just picked and showered
on moments of morning,
they together remain
even after years a cherished
reminiscence of backyard trysts.