Summer’s Mischief

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Summer is a juvenile boy,
hopscotching with pebbles
on afternoons strewn in
quixotic cricket’s rhapsodies,
and butterflies fluttering
salsa delights,

He scatters and gathers
moments like sparkling marbles,
winking in honeyed sunshine~
wearing a hat pinned in sunflowers
he guffaws his laughter
to flower into mustard blossoms.

On hibiscus-tinted dawns~
scented in mango blossom verses,
he sequins delphinium bays
in constellations,
spilling his moody eructations
on azure clarities
to crayon vibrant dusks.

he offers naive faith
in night jasmine filled palms,
tolling bells of worship
on temple steps of tranquility,
fingerpainting rainbows
on kohl streaked blues,
he discovers flavor of first love
on adolescent tongue,
in peppered kisses of tempest.

playing peek-a-boo
with chameleon silhouettes,
he scribbles his secrets on clouds,
with the moon his ball
he aims to taint the night
in mud-stained shots…

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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.

SEASONS…

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SPRING
She is aureate smile of daffodil
as it awakens from winter-lorn siesta
on a crisp peppermint morn
after apparently scores of dawns,
draped in misted confusions.

The soft lilting rhapsody
of a skylark as it senses fragrance
in flowing realms of zephyr
and sings to welcome floral delights.

She is lingering sigh of sakura
which blossom in redolent brevity
~ haiku penned by nature’s quill
on to be mouthed and scattered
in scented syllables
by a vociferous breeze.

Drizzling symphony of clouds
seeking to pepper petal-cheeks in gems-
as perfumed boudoir of Zephyrus,
enamors their vagrant souls.

SUMMER

Her laughter echoes in rippling gait
of cascading mountain brooks,
which flow down chiseled verdure
when a belligerent sun frowns.

She is infatuation
of a love-struck sunflower,
reiterating celestial path of Helios
with entranced gaze of one hypnotized.

She is fragrance of mango blossoms
which herald anticipations
of luscious, golden delights
soon to ripen on boughs of desire.

She is the elusive mirage
fleetingly cheating visions
on asphalted paths,
when light plays conjurer
on some harsh, perspiring noon.

AUTUMN

She is auburn whisper of nostalgia
withering from bony fingers
of geriatric mendicancy,
echoing on dusty trails
in cinnamon-scented ambiguity.

She is placid grin carved
on juicy melons of reality,
to concoct dancing shadows on
stark lamps of veracity.

She is the swiftness of squirrels
eagerly hoarding nuts,
only to be forgotten restart
another xylem-phloem equation,
while golden wheat-dreams rippen.

She is the mandarin moon
seen perched on nude branches,
delighting in the vista
of enceinte fields afore harvest.

WINTER

She is the sepia morning,
apparently bleached of flavors and hues,
awakening lethargically to
steaming lure of caffeine~
seen through frosted panes
fingerprinted by wind’s shivers.

She is warmth of blazing hearth
and blankets coaxing agility to laze,
on afternoons veiled in fog
while nostrils delight in scents
of roasted peanuts and brewed hot cocoa.

She the flavor of green peas
shelled in bowls like moments of leisure,
the aroma of greens permeating from
a kitchen’s larder of allure.

She is the forbidden pleasure
of ice-creams savored in the chill
when snowflakes cover foliage rustles
like children after pillow tussles,
and fingers are numbly beg for sunshine.

Reflections of Winter Sun…

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wizened winter sun
is like a faint smile
on a face wreathed in wrinkles,
as it gazes with eyes
reminiscing sepia yesteryears,
its rays on snow-salted pine tops,
like golden honey trickling down
icy contours of popsicles.

it remembers its juvenile days
when it woke up to
scented yawns of frangipani
its blonde mane laced in dewdrops,
while scores of drowsy sunflowers
reflected its lazy grin,
and its face was a ripe red plum
staining brightening azure
in its vermilion juices, at dawn.

it recalls sweltering days of summer
that were like harshness of blazing cinders
frosting hourglass existences
in sweat beads of moisture,
remembering the chiaroscuros spun
on shady looms of palm fronds,
the balmy hours flavored
in sweet-sour sips of lemonades,
and longevities of august days ending
in variegated poetics of sultry dusk
winking in fluorescent fireflies.

tempest clouds tinted in grays
are like salt and pepper maturity
of a middle aged person,
shivering, geriatric sun of snow
remembers rainstorms with howling winds
tossing its drenched realms like a frisbee,
while lightening flashed as spluttering mustard
in hot oil on frying pan moments~
its silver arms like opportunity’s limbs,
and trumpeting thunder rattled
introspections of cobwebby windows,
until rainbows concluded this rancor.

cinnamon days glowing in mandarin sighs
of a sun preoccupied with armchair reflections
are remembered by it in december mists,
it recalls taste of apple cider and pumpkin pies
gracing the table tops of october,
soft,rustling melodies reverberating on
piano keys of cobblestones,
are remembered in fractured fragments
of frayed and orphaned lyrics
by a sun with memories lurking on
the whimsical edge of age-lorn dementia.

now peering through foggy days
with eyes covered in presbyopic lenses
and scales of withering memories,
sun slowly walks along chilled brevities
of faded days of winter,
drinking in not the bland barren scenes
but reliving the memories of brighter days
rifling through them as snapshots,
as a twilight etched in stale crayons
unfolds as an epilogue to another winter day…

Moon is a Poetic Whisper…

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a runaway moon seeks
to flee from its haunting eclipse,
she is inflicted by curse
of a waxing and waning persona,
always melting into vacuous nothingness
of espresso spilled skies
and freezing into sublime orb
oft stolen by silent bays~
in snippets of crumpled reflections
from a lenient nocturne.

lit in benevolence of sun
moon rues its loneliness on heavens
where stars never befriend her,
preening in her tarnished halo
she tries to erase her boredom
filling empty, elastic moments in
glimpses of lecherous voyeurism
trespassing within walls of privacy,
or just getting drunk on wine
in morose moments of solitude,
seeking oblivion to wipe away
lurking shadows of the forlorn.

she is like a fairytale princess
enshackled in nascent rain-songs of tempest,
fated to be forever emblazoned
on cosmic vacuum as a reluctant sigh,
she can escape momentarily
on gossamer wings of imagination
behind facades of vague,cloudy oblivion
or play truant to sleep over
shimmering hopes of indigo lakes,melts
she reclines over denuded boughs of fall
her face tinted in twilight hues,
and blends into opacities
of the treacherous winter mists.

she gilds nature’s realms in silver
these ornaments like butterfly flutter poetry,
she is the echo of radiance
from sun buried within womb of hurling oceans,
a reminder of the sunrise awaiting
beyond dark thresholds of ughten,
she is an eternal dream
finding diverse interpretations,
to the hungry, beggar gazing at night sky
she is a rounded bun or a milk bowl,
the poet lost in metaphors
sees a mirror in the moon which
revives dwindling meters of his verse,
while to a lover she is epitome
of the glowing visage of his beloved.

salting sleeping earth contours
in fragile embryos of dreams,
she etches smiles over blooming harsingars,
blessing sleeping sunflowers
with hopes of fluid graffiti dawns,
she is the whisper of long faded sunsets
reiterated by the night’s chasm,
owl’s hoots and eerie calls of night jars
are scribbled as faint wrinkles
on the face of forlorn moon,
perched over velvet softness of night
she dwells of longevities exhaled
as an old woman reflecting on past years…

She is an Autumn-Song

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she is a brunette,
her cinnamon mane a poetry
writ in burgundy waves,
her desires wilted
and withered like foliage
burnished and bronzed.

her whimsy is
like echo of rain
on pedestrian trails,
her words are graffiti lines
penned in versatile crayons
of russet, tangerine, gold
in abstract whispers
frozen on leafage moments.

her moods are musicality
of a violin’s strain,
sweet like gulps of apple cider,
scented in potpourri dreams,
strung like raindrop pearls
into a fluid symphony,
pulsations of fragile arteries
reverberating with
the melody of strummed violins.

she is spun in sunshine pastels
borrowed from dusky skies
splashed in flowing flames,
in her eyes floats sorrow
of trees ravaged by fall,
their arms left empty of rustles
she is wrapped in solitude
a silent serenade
trickling in treacle syllables
on parched cobblestones
of a mellow september
standing with palms spread
to benevolent turquoise
for benediction…

She is Moonlight

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moonlight

She is moonlight
of alabaster skin
and velvet footsteps
shod in tranquility
she ascends
the winding staircase of night
a sheen of dirty silver
concocted of ebon kohl
mingling with silver fingerprints
of self and asters
its walls studded
with starry constellations
born aeons ago
from seeds of Hera’s milk drops
stolen from suckling lips
of cherubic Hercules.

fumes of intoxicating breath
of nightjasmine just opening her
yet unfurled dormant petals
droop her silver eyelashes
with soporific aura
as perfume wreaths
itself through her nostrils
and as she ascendes
the lofty heavens on steps
of whimsical floating clouds
of mascara streaks
her gossamer, shimmering veil
like a cascade
of effervescent white wine
tasting of fresh sea salts
and sweet raspberries
spreads itself as a quilt
of cobwebby moonlight
over the face
of lethargic, drowsy earth.

her veil ripples
as sublime waves of champagne
their coronets of froth
dazzling as stardust tiaras
moths drunk on
its sweet drops of elixir
dance in frenzy
intoxicated by sparkling wine,

reflection of
a glimpse of snowy blizzard
reverberating
from gaze of lunar eyes
cobweb of Morpheus
strewn with incandescent dreams
spun on loom of
the elusive woman on moon
an intricate reticulum
of strands of light
borrowed from ethereal flames
of indomitable hope
resembling refulgent bosom
of flowing bay under sunlight
this is the soothing moonlight.

a rhapsody of sheen
from faces of dewdrops
and rays of light seived
by prismatic profile of diamonds
with the eburnean echo
of amaranthine faith
transient smile of
sublime hursinghars
and cherry blossoms.

this is moonlight
a parody of unrealized desires
whithered hopes
with nascent dreams
and evanescent drops
of tears showered
as drizzle of benevolence
to mitigate ebon darkness
of the labyrinthine alleyes
draped in loneliness
and which enter
my boudoir to bathe me
in shower of canescent caresses…