She is Zephyr…

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she is
wreathed in fragrance
gathered from
boudoir of flowers,

invisible and elusive
garlands of strung scents
compose realms in
rainbow-crocheted meads,

when virgin sighs
of awakening daffodils
with gold-dust wombs
herald colorful spring.

pink-white whispers
of cherry tree,
pepper silence of mornings
~citrus-lorn and clutching
to lingering sliver
of lunar promises
fading on face of azalea skies.

she finds her whimsy
in moods of sakura blossoms,
her laughter reminiscent
of sunflowers and plumeria,
her sensuous dreams
abound in breath of roses.

painting evensongs
with nectar of violets
wisterias and stoic amaranths,
she adorns nights
in sequins of night jasmine,
and pollens of dahlias.

she is the dream
of lotuses daydreaming over
lake’s indifferent embrace,
exuberance of marigolds
in balmy summer’s veranda,

she is
emblazoned essence
of poppies on aurora-sky,
ambiance and prosperity
blooming like hibiscuses
~footprints on marble-steps
of worship.

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Life of a Flower

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flowers smile in
the cascading sunshine
of volatile gold
and weep dewdrops
under night’s facade
of moonlit oblivion,

they droop at dusk
when the daylight begins
to fade and clouds express
their thoughts of adieu
by masquerading as
versicolor christmas flyers.

swaying to rhapsody
of the redolent zephyr,
they wink flirtatiously at
dainty butterflies and moths,
and sigh with envy
at glowing array of fireflies.

withering away
after a fragrant spell on verdure,
the flowers leave behind
a acerbic fruit of rawness
to ripen on boughs of life,
while the petal fall over earth
in a scented breath of devotion,
gradually mingling in humus.

flowers are alive
needing water and sunshine,
they have sentiments
responding to care and tenderness
their scented breaths
of affection wafting in wind,
are eulogies scribed in
appreciation of nature…

Scents of Naiveté 

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syllables uttered
by variegated gossiping wildflowers,
to an uncouth morning
fenced in swaying bamboo groves,
are like perfumed sighs
from chiseled hourglass of essence
sprayed in rancid space to erase
smudges of claustrophobia.

smell of mango blossoms
abloom under foliage draperies,
are flowered promises
of luscious tanginess
bottled into sunshine pickles,
and golden sweetness
poured into chilled glasses
for parched sensitivities.

a pie baking in oven
whispers sumptuous aromas,
like a cherished dream evolving,
a browned moment
burnished and crisp,
cooked with flavor of affection
to enhance radiance of festivities
and make life special.

under sly gaze of pale moon
hursinghars bloom
filling fragrance in nostrils
of moonlit quietude,
to be scattered on face
of dawn as petals of devotion
for rising aureate sun.

falling rain tappers,
puttering as a busybody
with kitchen utensils,
on stark, corrugated rooftops,
playing rain-chimes
on potholes with their fluidities,
and sprinkling humid breath
over freshly laundered realms,
reminiscent of brewing
cardamom tea in earthen cups
and spicy fries within
porcelain palms.

scent of September
molting its old songs in bronze,
strung as nutmeg rosary beads
on threads of existence,
are symbolic of maple’s angst
and penury of humus strewn days~
when roasted marshmallows
and cooking cinnamon rolls
add taste to bland palates.

Floral Musings…

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golden buttercups,
in sunshine-spun pinafores,
shiver in the cool breeze
while lukewarm treacle trickles
down azure canopy
polka-dotted in vagrant clouds
with storms brewing
within cotton-wool wombs,
and butterflies preen
in aureate embrace of
the redolent daylight.

dandelions are songs sung
by earth’s fertility, scattering
fragrant syllables over
silent chords of wind’s violin,
to spread as notes of spring’s allure
while bonny cotton-faces
sway to the rhythm of
this ethereal rhapsody echoing
in muted couplets of delight,
unaware and un-envious of
the prettier taffeta of others
abloom in spring’s boudoir.

zinnias in variegated skirts
blooming in versicolor bower-ribbons
pantomime as rainbow strands
brocaded over soil’s bosom,
enchanting butterflies on wings
painted as evensongs of dusk
and moths crooning softly
while honeybees buzz
with nectarine anticipation,
unaware that the breath
of these multi-shaded blossoms
was not ethereal as hues promised
~they are like femme fatale
without inherent love in dark souls.

myriad colored wildflowers
blooming amid the straggling weed
under virtually opaque veneer
of anonymity and obscurity,
smile beneath the cascading photons
simpering with pleasure
as a group of country-maids,
their beauty unadulterated as
the bliss at being alive
sighs faint nuances of sweetness
reverberating in zephyr
as eulogies to spring’s beauty.

perfumed laughter of lilacs
blooming in honeydew sunshine
as remnants of the scrolls of crepuscule,
abloom in bowers of desire,
echo in colorful fragments to
together compose lullabies and aubades
for both nightfall and dawn
always cradled in verdant flutters
as spring’s fragrant children
eager to lave in dewdrops and
bask in pouring sunshine…

 

 

A Bowl of Potpourri

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melange of blended, dried assortments,

blended fragrances

concocting verses  for the senses,

spreads redolent breath in breeze.

 

reminiscent of stolen kisses, in rendezvous

under fondly doting stars and moon,

mystery of forgotten yesteryears

of boisterous waves caressing golden sands

cradling oyster shells gravid with pearls,

aroma from home’s kitchen

and perfume of burning sticks of incense,

burnt on pious altars of temples,

fragrance from bruised roses

smiling amid prickly thorns

and scented whispers of night jasmine

echoing in rustle of vagrant breeze.

 

in medley, exotic olio lies in a crystal bowl

sitting as sterile bric-a-brac on my table,

to add flavors to room air rejuvenating  senses.

 

as I see gallimaufry in the bowl

appreciated even after withering  and drying,

a few drops of elixir added to enhance piquancy,

I yearn to be a potpourri after demise

living as breath of fragrant rapture in memories

with  ambrosia of past anecdotes

to enhance my redolence…