Rain-Song Lyrics


tempest croons songs
in fluid syllables from azure,
as piano key clouds
adorn their bland lyrics
in symphonic notes,
and drenched sheepish leafage
joins in the echoing chorus.

grinning flowers
with faces peppered in raindrops
hum in fragrant whispers,
their soft voice adding consonants
to the vowels of petrichor,
while invisible fingers of rain
pluck petals from wet coronas.

peacocks spread
their dreams tapestried in silk
under whimsical strains of rain
etching potholes in musical rhapsodies,
and pattering on jigsaw cobblestones
to scribe their imageries
on dried flutters of tangerine fall.

raindrops splattered on
transparencies of window-panes
gather the stingy gold sprinkled
as photon-dust by Midas tempest sun,
to adorn in rainbow idiosyncrasies
and liquid fantasies,
while a grey tinted cerulean canvas
is painted in transience
of shimmering spectral imaginations.

the raindrops sing
about the colors splattered
by versatile moods of fading twilight
and the cherry blossom
speculations of blossoming aurora,
of foliage conversations
moulded into poetry by tempest,
and roof tiles harshness
tempered into melodies by rain.


In Memories’ Vase (Vignettes)


beautiful moon1

moon is a pearl
in indigo palm of cosmos,
shimmering with asters
pouring vanilla ice-cream
in dollops into
voracious lips of Gaea.


sailing as french lace puffs
on azure infinite,
with traces of tempest’s grey
on sublime countenance,
and hints of rainbow pastels
streaked mildly, nonchalantly
amoebic angel-pillows
strum symphony of drizzles.


the celestial pomegranate
is pealed by divinity to sprinkle
seeds on night’s veil of sombre
as twinkling asters- the
frozen fireflies on Kohl-ed skies,
or hopes aglow in despair.

frangipani in rain

raindrops fall
to pepper the taffeta
of frangipani breathing
sweet perfume,
and scroll an arch
of prismatic rainbow
on the grey expanse.


quietude of
an uninhabited island
is ripped into shards by
claws of fierce storm
its carnivorous fangs piercing
flesh of clouds to
create thunder and lightening.


hypnotic sighs
of poppies in vermilion
lull the senses into a slumber,
gifting stolen moments
of respite in anxiety.

sands of time

these glimpses are
portrayed on sands of time
as beautiful images,
like vows of true love,

flower vase

and are admired with pleasure
by soul, caressed by
breeze of bliss
and treasured as flowers
in memory’s vase,
or bottled away as fireflies
of glowing starlight…

Soft Strain of Raindrops…


falling rain rain pours

strain of
pouring rain,
strummed on
amoebic grey-white~
piano keys sailing on
muddied cerulean,
echoes on
breast of roof tiles.

and scented sighs
of drenched roses
mingles with
the breathed warmth
from salved sores
of sunburned soil,
creating bittersweet
cocktail for senses.

as moist fingers
of mist cover
clear glass panes
with hazy layer
of pseud-dew,
and a sheepish sun
hides beneath
tempest’s curtains
in flutter.

till fingers
of the rainbow,
erase the fluid kohl
from face of azure,
to adorn
the bride nature
in gossamer veil
of aureate sunshine,
while gluttonous rays
lick away
all dishwater puddles
from gravel trails.

and as this
of myriad sounds,
unfolds before
my sun-parched eyes
thirsting for
cloud’s ambrosia,
I stand my the window
watching rain
and thunder,
yearning to dance
as the eucalyptuses
in the pouring rain…

ripples of raindrops

Rain-Painted Windows



Dust-covered window panes
covered in acne marks of cobwebs,
and scratches of sunshine’s fingernails,
hide behind brocade curtains
wearing a film of translucence
rarely is the moon allowed to peep in
nor does the sun’s glare
erase the lenghthening shadows.

But the monsoon’s strain 
echoing in crystal syllables on rooftops,
tapper on glass panes as a parody
of bittersweet symphony of existence,
washing away all dust, grime and spider webs
and photon droplets of liquid sunshine,

Together etch a hand-painted scene
like the glimpse of dream come alive,
with trees lush green swaying to the rainsong,
a sun grinning sheepishly from
behind charcoal smeared clouds while
in the verdant palm of the garden
bruised rose petals lie scattered,
like the tinge of sorrow that lingers
in the realms of life’s pleasant moments…

Tempest Storm At Dawn…



Dawn was a liquid prelude
echoing in pattering notes on roof tiles,
its water colors washed away
by the deluge of overwhelmed clouds,
and drenched eucalyptuses
swayed like drunken sailors to
resonating music of the flute
of damp, tempest breeze.

With the duvet wrapped around
the lingering warmth of a lost, balmy night,
I sat gazing at the silver showers
riddling the aged, blistered pavements
in ripple-puckered puddles,
while some droplets splatter my face
through half open windows,
like pearls scattered from
the broken necklace of dreams.

Roses nurtured by sunshine
are bathed by monsoons in manna,
breaking with rapture to
kiss the soil in petalled sighs,
on glass panes  aroma of rain
precipitates in misty translucence
like the haze covering
spectacles of memories,

The sword of lightning flashes
while the thunder resounds as trumpet of war,
the earth is an insatiable sponge
absorbing the melodies of vagrant clouds,
the tempest o’erbrims 
the emptiness of solitude in
fragments of ambiguous poetry
waiting interpretation from
moments of quiet contemplation.