She is Zephyr…

Standard

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.

Nature’s Personifications…

Standard

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…

Standard

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.

Winter Spawns Spring’s Dream

Standard

chill of wind’s invisible fingers covers
dry skin in goose pimples,
shivers woven into frostbitten thoughts
in a winter indulging
in reverie like a wizened old man
rocking on vague armchair introspections.

myopic, frost-beaded windows
peer at barren moments of january,
snowflakes falling like
shattered, stained-glass fragments
of a frozen rainbow stolen
from august’s mixed feeling skies,
while the colorless gardens
await in anticipation of graffiti spring.

daffodils and snowdrops
hibernate beneath silences of soil,
waiting to blossom into perfumed whispers
heralding spring’s carnival,
with chilled feet and cold-numbed fingers
and a burgeoning hope fluttering
in anticipation within my womb
like butterflies’ wings~

which etches my cheeks in blushes
I await the arrival of spring
and the feeling of motherhood,
like a rain-filled conch shell
awaiting the birth of a pearl.

Story of a Leaf

Standard

young leaf

born by unfurling
on some misty, dewy morn
of pouring honeydew,
from chartreuse axillary bud
this leaf spun rhapsodies
of echoing rustles,
with others on tree’s arms.

fluttering leaves

it fluttered in the wind,
with the swaying boughs
and danced in the rain
as elixir splattered on verdure,
it was spun with another
to form cradle for tailor birds,
and was adorned in dewdrops
every aureate morning.

leaf in rain

the ripe fruit or pretty flower
played hide and seek
behind this green curtain,
and caterpillars fed on
its tender sinews with leisure,
nibbling its form until
the pupa made it a butterfly.

catterpillar

then fall brought its array
of golds, reds and yellows,
splashing its on the green form,
and the leaf was now
pantomiming as a petal,
aroma of cinnamon in its breath
as though tainted by sunshine,
caressed by photons’ fingers.

autumn leaves1

and finally an autumnal sun
of mellowed warmth,
witnesses its fall on sidewalk,
to become just another
tangerine confetti of fall,
or the honeyed moon saw
it withering from its twig
and it floats in the embrace
of breeze to mingle in dust…

Poetic Glimpses in Nature…

Standard

dirty blue tides crashing
against sands of a relentless shore,
with pink, empty sea-shells
and conchs enceinte with dulcet notes
grasped within platinum fists,
are like hurling, burgeoning poetry
within which thoughts seek
to dive and explore in cerulean depths,
discovering angst of bleeding dusks
and their lavender scrolls,
muted songs of cavorting dolphins,
exotic tales of pirates,
lush silences of uninhabited isles
and cockiness of racing seahorses.

autumn is strewn in rustles
tinted in volatile golds and bronzes,
blazing torches of october
light the trail to a misty winter,
in its variegated pastels smiles poetry
sun-kissed yellows sigh potpourri metaphors
on the cheeks of autumn clouds,
verdant naiveté is burnt into browns
maturing as middle-aged anecdotes,
on rocking chair contemplation,
leaves become mottled sonnets
scribed from quill of fall
inked in mellow sunshine script.

summer waterfalls in silver-clad feet
skip down a geometric hillside~
poetry reverberates in a sweet fluidity,
sprinkling satiation over
parched realms of lemonade-lorn summers,
bare toes in cascading waters,
trailing down as snowflake’s tears
feel the placidity of monsoon-symphonies,
rippling over naked feet
and tickling soles of sensitivities,
it erases grime and sweat
to scribe lines of surreal poetry
on balmy afternoons of august.

butterflies on wings
like fragmented moments of twilights,
flutters to dissolve their echoes
into fragrant realms of zephyr,
like radiant lines of versatile verse
they are like dreams brocaded
on the loom of slumber,
poetry emerges like a collage
of cloth pieces, a patchwork of colors,
in the boudoir of spring
nectar from blooming hope pens
these poetic stanza punctuated in
periods of whimsical pollen,
hennaed over butterfly feet.

Honeydew Spring

Standard

geriatric spring,
creeps slowly along
sinuous alleys,
of forgotten’s mist-

bleached
of hazel naiveté,
and juvenile aura
of dew-kissed,
curled velvet of
auxiliary buds

dappled hurriedly
by evaporating,
incessant moments,
in fleeting kiss
of honeydew’s hue;

-lingering as alms
of transient daydreams

her redolent yawn,
like sighs of
withered wisteria,
on damp soil
-polka-dotted in
murky puddles.

her once radiant colors,
reminiscent of
evanescent dew’s
meager shades,
splashed pastels
of a child graphiti,
erased by firm hands
of governess fate~

as olive of maturity
seen on foliage,

of sturdy oaks, pious banyan,
mango orchards,bamboo groves,
aromatic tea leaves,
still waters of lotus’ havens

engulfs a once carefree life,
wiping away all
exotic oneiroi, mirages,

to instill deep within,
inherent sincerity of crops-
faithfully fulfilling
promise of rich harvest.

as through oriels
of tomorrow,
at fringe of horizons,
peep shades of
wrinkled autumn,
also reflected within,
tangerine glint of irises
of intuition…