Winter is An Old Woman…

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Winter
is an old woman,
her face mapped in wrinkles
like frostbitten verbs,

She sits
on her haunches at dawn,
gathering citrus-scented dewdrops
from grass blades,
while painting her dreams
as azaleas in watercolors on
hydrangea skies.

Snowflakes
are christmas baubles
simpering treacle smiles in
the lukewarm sunshine,
hung on verdant limbs
of frozen pines,
adorning each silent apostle
in crystalline whispers.

Ladling peppercorn sighs
of fuming soup
on shivering platters
etching gasps of delight,
she sips cappuccinos
with parched lips,
scenting once cinnamon breeze
in caffeine vowels.

Using herbs
like versatile consonants,
of variegated flavors and aromas
sprinkled on bland days,
parsley and cilantro
green onions and garlic~
enhance the taste of existence,
as she spins love-yarns
in the kitchen.

Mists she spins
like gossamer hopes,
to quilt the barren earth
wrapping hibernations in oblivion
to nurture the nascent,
until daffodils awaken
from buried bulbs in springtime.

Sitting afore maple-wood fires,
on her creaking arthritic armchair,
she spins woolen jumpers~
blessing her progeny with warmth,
and indulges in marshmallow reverie
reminiscing of balmy August afternoons,
lingering in memory
as the taste of pickled mangoes
and roasted, buttery peanuts.

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.

Winter is an Unraveled Secret…

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wintermorn2

bland days
like blank, crumpled sheets
of muted amnesia,
are bracketed within
parched lip morns cuddled
within warm affections
of cozy mink blankets,
and your honeyed caresses,
twilights abloom in wisterias
and nights echoing in whispers
of flimsy snowflakes,
with a lingering flavor
of sweet peas and mandarins.

daffodils

daffodils are nascent dreams
in slumber under soil
within oblivion of bulbs,
like a pearl inside
oyster’s dark uterus
beneath hurling tides of sea,
or a lunar eclipse
which hides radiance
as a closed fist,
while skies wrinkled in clouds
yearn for topaz blaze
of summer sun and hues of fall
emblazoned both as
prologue and epilogue of
chapter of daylight.

cherry blossoms

a tired yawn
sighed over stale sheets
on mornings clad in powder puffs
of milky, opaque mists,
is an epitome of winter
which is ache of frozen limbs
melted by borrowed heat
from furnaces aflame in cinders,
it is faded memory of old age
strewn in sepia fragments,
transience of cherry blossoms
withered in abbreviated moments
from fingers of longevity,
are like winter daylight
brief and mellow, fringed
in blackberry nights.

Thoughts Brewed in my Kitchen

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tea leaves bleed
aromatic synonyms in water
as it bubbles to fill
piquant anticipations in gaze
of lethargic, mist-draped winters,
poured into chiseled transparencies,
insinuating russet delights
of sweet apple cider.

cookie crumbles
voicing soft innuendoes
of honeyed pleasures,
unheeded by a tongue rolling
in hurriedly munched bites
tinged in caffeinated sips
as preoccupations enshroud
sensibilities of an overwrought mind.

as currency crisp afternoon
crumble like stale scones,
into twilights crocheted in wildflowers,
warming cold-numbed fingers
over brewing warmth of coffee
I rifle through lists of ingredients
needed for impending supper.

appetizing breath of curry
fills the blandness of shivering nights,
preening in starry tiarras,
as moments shell and crunch
their oxymoron moods
like fire-kissed peanuts,
seasoned in finger-licking spices
luring gluttony from
routine monotony of dinner table.

ice-creams relax
their realms undiluted by winter nights
cuddled in snowflake sighs,
while hot chocolate sauce laces
their frozen dreams in passion,
and chilled spoonfuls
are gulped in rapture
to frill cold in icy pleasures.

moments of november reverie…

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snow on trees

whiplash winds flog
trees denuded by pilferer autumn,
as sugar-flakes fall
from mixed feeling grays, to pepper
landscapes and sweeten
the bitterness of November chill,
with wispy, caramel kisses.

hot chocolate
simmering in warmth
of kitchen strewn in blended aromas,
a lonely cup of cocoa
tries to mellow, to sugarcoat
lingering piquancy of departed fall,
before filling emptiness
of hollow, porcelain throats
to trickle down drooling tongues
as pacifying gulps
of winter’s complacence.

fireplace2

golden glow of flickering amber flames
ablaze in hearth coated in soot
of past years and memories,
casting sepia shadows on bokhara rugs,
as armchairs cuddle duvet quilted moments
festooned with trysts in reverie.