Goosebumps…

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Reading unvoiced
tremor of nervousness,
as Braille under
caressing fingertips,
he recited in stilted sighs
a sonnet of desire scribed
on her skin in moonlit silence
drunk on love’s chardonnay.

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Popcorn Moments

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Days are
like popcorns in a pan
bursting and popping
with surprise moments,
gravid with pleasant anticipation
minutes swollen with
the unexpected yet delightful,

My two year old
is an enigma,
his intrigue changing
my jaded, pragmatic outlook,
as I discover life anew
peeling its layers like an onion

he laughs aloud
and cries the next instant,
scattering his emotions
like marbles in sunshine,

playing peek-a-boo with my scarf
he wears a bowl on his head,
babbling and prattling
his ambiguous verbiage
~ he creates a strain
quixotic yet musical

within innocent palms
he seeks to capture butterflies,
racing after fleeting shadows
he smells of sunshine and wildflowers
and sugar and spice,

wearing huge boots
in tiny pattering feet,
he seeks to measure
winding trails of existence.

showering its benediction
over our parched souls,
erasing the silhouettes of quietude
with his giggles and laughter,

fingerpainting rainbow on
the drab and the commonplace
he defines ecstasy
in all its shades and more…

Sensual Whispers

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caved pillows
imprinted in twin heads,
wrinkles furrowed
on satin sheets of silent morn,

lingering whispers of sweet-nothings
murmured in night’s ear,

remnants of molten, vanilla candles,
their dead wicks winking
in early refulgence~
murmur stardust-secrets,

Echo of blending breaths
entangled and fragrant with passion,
caresses exotic
like molten, dark chocolate,
trickling down butterscotch,

emblazoned
on alabaster skin
as hibiscus petals on dawn~
sensuality defines itself.

I Dreamed of Mother…

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colored tendrils
frozen on distant horizons,
like versicolor yarn
tangled in disarray
~reflecting confusions
of memories mutated
by whimsy of racing eons.

I saw her
face forgotten yet
familiar,
like a faded photo,

her smile like a wisp of fall
floating in potpourri draught,
or a sliver of silver
on uncompromising black
of fathomless night.

fingers yearned
to caress those contours
chiseled in reverie,
but palsied I stood,
mesmerized as a moth
in lantern light,

while she beckoned
with a promise of embrace
long hankered for.

like a rain-song
her presence satiated
the thirst for maternal love,
as my loneliness
was erased forever and beyond,

I relived those
scanty memories
nostalgia a rolling spool
of precious but elusive
moments captured
like fireflies in
in a crystal bottle,
spread prismatic winks
of delight.

her voice
echoed dwarfing
the distance of lost years,
butterflies fluttered
in a hue-filled fog,
my gaze filled
with anticipation
of love nurtured by love
of a mother
now my shadow…

Crown Cinquain of Love…

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your lips
taste of nectar,
your voice a manna dream,
spun on loom of sweet desire
always.

you flow
within me as  
fluid fire and feel
like a rippling cascade in
my arms.

you are
song of my soul,
echoing inside me
within the depths of my being
softly.

glowworm
of my darkness,
soft tempest of my soul,
diamond of my heart forever 
and ever.

to you 
I am braided,
in thought, spirit and soul,
forever you and I are joined
in love.

 

Versatile are the Definitions of Love…

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love has
many degrees
and myriad levels,

loving 
a sweet child,
held close 
in its mother’s arms,
is like the love
of sun-rays for dew
transient
and soon evanesced.

loving 
one’s own child,
of one’s own sinews
and womb,
is like nurturing love
of cotyledons
for tender embryo,
or of sepals 
for petals yet to 
unfurl into flower.

loving
a friend is
like the love of
butterflies and roses,
of grass blades and dew
and of flamingos
with blooming lotuses,
a love that binds
the unlike
with bonds of
togetherness.

loving
a sweetheart
is like the eternal love
of purple twilight
for cricket’s evensong
and of starlight
and dancing glowworms,
of moonbeams
and lovelorn oysters.