Lines of a Reborn Dream…

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Along flamingo circumference
of a blossoming morn,
lingers like silver remnant moon
a withered dream~
reminiscent of fallen flowers
of saffron-sublime hursinghars
or a fish stranded ashore
~dead and forgotten,

She picks it up in her caress
salving its sores
with honeyed syllables of hope,
singing nurturing rhapsodies
sequined in photons,

as a fledgling with wings
nascent and unfurled,
she croons it with lullabies
reverberating in quietude
of early light~
putting its daydreams to sleep.

Her fingers like paint brushes
of fantasy dapple
obscure hydrangea blues
in versatile rainbows
~ephemeral and evanescent
adding novelty to the commonplace,

She adorns her horizons
in peacock plumule~
snatches of elusive nature’s verse
her laughter echoing
in prismatic verbiage like
secret dialect of fluttering
butterflies’ wings.

Autumn Exuberance

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kissing and tickling
footsteps of departing summer,

burnished foliage
~cinnamon confetti
tinted in red, yellow and orange

showered on solitude
of dust trails fringed
in dead grass,

flies vagrant like syllables
of a half-forgotten love-song~

lingering on crutches
of fake confabulations.

variegated
are moods of verdure,

stained by life’s versatile experiences
in graffiti hues born
from pastels of oxymoron autumn,

streaked on juvenile flutters
yester-years tempered
in the cauldrons of dead past

one last sigh
of exuberance born
from nature

before widowed and wizened
she wraps herself~

in geriatric shivers and
frostbitten mists
of armchair nostalgia…

Fairy-tales of the Meads -2…

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Rapunzel tendrils
of dusk-lorn wisterias,
hang in scented breeze
casting long, sinuous shadows
in receding light
and streetlight speculations.

Cinderella escapades
of butterflies
fluttering their nervousness
while ranting in
language of ambiguities,
donning firefly-refulgence
under moonlit fantasies
to ballet in floral ballrooms
only to be left
holding a pumpkin at midnight.

Sleeping beauty,
lost in eternal slumber
wakes up to honeydew kiss of spring
to spread her laughter~
as a golden daffodil,
making the dawn redolent.

Snow-white
whispers of night-jasmine
peppered on soil,
are each like spawned love-child
of sunshine wedded to the moon,
poetry of white and saffron
and perfumed in love.

Medley ~Versatile thoughts in Vignettes

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love letters
scribbled by fingertips
of winter sunshine,
on burnished epistles
of autumn
in wilted November,

float
whispering
in cinnamon syllables,
a fragrant tale of love
nascent yet withered
from boughs
of vibrant imagery.

dredges
of stale cappuccino
in paper-cup preoccupations,
remind of conversations
in moonlight
between the starstruck.

proclivities
of a precocious dawn
are painted in medley of hues
as reiterated colors
on azure canvas at gloaming.

cobblestone sores
are pitchers of pouring rain,
rippling with
rhapsodies born in
tempest’s tenebrosities
and oft crooned
by wet, rustling foliage.

croissants are
like moments of love
shared in togetherness
lingering sweetly
on tongue of reverie.

Ode to Cerulean Tides…

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they
are relentless,
tireless and adamant,
defining
perseverance on
chiseled contours
of igneous,

apostles of brine
shattered
against indifference
~ brine of tortured emotions
born of harsh adversities.

cerulean tides
resonate with life’s strain
echoing eternally across eons,
seagulls breech
quietude of the sea shore
with cacophony
blending in waves’ strain.

a glutton ocean swallows
golden morsel of a versatile sun,
while trickling hues of crepuscule
are reflected on
sea’s visage of turmoil~
finger-painted
by receding evening light.

within aquamarine depths
mysteries hide and sagas breathe,
seahorses and oysters sail,
remnants of some ship
dilapidated in a seastorm,
mermaids n’ sirens
add fantasy
to realms of pragmatic.

peppered
on aureate sands ashore,
fragments of seawaves
drench and break
fragile castles of sand,
scattering seashells n’ conches~

like broken pieces
of a giant, pretty doll
lying on the quiet beach
as phrases
of nature’s poetry eager
to be wreathed into verse.

Nature’s Personifications…

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She sits on her haunches
eagerly peering into versatile bay silences
unaware of homecoming delights
of nestlings within rustling leafage,
impatient for constellations to be
sequined on indigo,
while her variegated thoughts
transiently splash themselves
like modern art watercolors on
darkening scowl of azure
and a mandarin sun
leaves its laughter scattered in
evanescing citrus photons
on the visage of marmalade clouds
somewhere a cricket sings
in careless asynchrony of juvenile zest~
she is twilight.

She leaves handprints emblazoned
on cornflower mildness of morn–
resembling lotuses abloom on the sleepy lake,
her smiles are scented in
mysteries of night jasmine’s rendezvous
with the fading moon
and gaucheness of virgin tea-leaves
yet to unfurl chartreuse realms,
she fingerpaints stars on bosoms
of rivers enceinte with restlessness:
despite a deceptive serenity,
fondling drowsy heads of drooping flowers
to awaken them yawning redolently,
while a rooster crows its aubade~
she is dawn.

She brandishes her spatula
in a potpourri of piquant aromas
emanating from her kitchen,
she is a whimsical painter
splashing fiery shades on
fluttering bosoms
of commonplace verdure,
with a topaz moon in her palms,
she softly serenades
the angst of boughs
denuded and silenced
while indifferent sidewalks
preen clad in fireflame verses~
she is autumn.

She has songs
brewing like bleeding tea leaves
within a romantic soul,
with fragrances nurtured
in variegated bowers in her embrace,
she brocades rainbows
on fertile expectations of soil
using an imagination
borrowed from vagrant clouds,
as an innocent voyeur
she witnesses the moon flirting
with shy oysters
hidden within brine turbulences,
she is spring.

She is the exuberance
of a waterfall descending on
silver stilletoes echoing musical notes
on slick mosses of pebbles,
her citrus breath
reminiscent of lemon blossoms
fills freshness in
nostrils of aureate morns,
her oxymoron moods
splatter themselves in
molten kaleidoscopes on
balmy epilogues of daylight
while a cricket strums
evensongs in summer breeze~
she is summer.

She wears her mixed feelings
as the salt and pepper in her hair,
she is the meditation
of snowclad pines on shivering morns,
the lukewarm caress of middle-aged sun
forming chiaroscuros at noon
under the boughs of gulmohur,
the aroma of roasted marshmallows
and foamy cappuccinos,
she is translucence on window-panes
shimmering in sunlight,
with the distant memory
of innocent fingers doodling
thoughts on sighs of boreas,
she is a prismatic snowflake
peppering pragmatic trails,
in chiseled rainbow sonnets~
she is winter.

She showers
liquid benediction on arid earth,
converting puddles into musical chimes,
on grey celestial canvas
her desires blossom in transient vibgyor,
she is nature’s symphony
born on rustling foliage keys,
the ecstasy of a dancing peacock
fanning a turquoise brocade
in the moistness of tissue-paper days,
she is nectar of rejuvenation
breathing life into sinews
of the blistered and withered~
she is monsoon.

Fragments of Allure

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tiny feet
leaving mud prints
on marble-steps
of worship,

withered
rose petals peppered
on wet soil,

hennaed palms
imprint auspicious hopes,
on walls
of warm welcome,

extolling
mellifluous sounds
of temple bells
tattering
pious silence
of vermilion dawn.

whispers
of falling snow,
blending with citrus aroma
of mandarin winter morns,
and fresh breath
of pine needles.

spun
on barren loom
of autumn’s apostles,
honeydew moonlight
caresses
sleeping bay
in rippling ambiance.

singed
marigolds in July,
forlorn faces
of bygone spring
~a potpourri verse
of nature.

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…