Fragments of Allure


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

rose petals peppered
on wet soil,

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

mellifluous sounds
of temple bells
pious silence
of vermilion dawn.

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

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

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


Doves on Temple Footsteps…



chiaroscuros of orange fluidities
splashed in abstract echoes
of whispered psalms of devotion
on marble pedestals of temples’ piety
scented in harsingar’s hymns,
add radiance to extinguishing twilights
like dying sighs of saffron cinders
peppered in soft subtleties over
chilled moments strewn in vague umbras.

on volatile crepuscules
like molten emotions of infinite skies,
scattered with crumpled-thought clouds
as waste paper on concrete,
sublime doves grunt and grumble
in syllables of puzzling ambiguities,
as pink beaks peck at
discovered grains of sustenance,
complaining at human meanness
which forgets the hunger of others
while satiating its own greed.

they hopscotch on sun-singed grass
and flutter wings in brief haiku flights,
sprinkling their rage on dusk
like bread crumbs on face of existence,
as a glutton night swallows
the yolk sun in a large mouthful,
I sit on the deserted temple steps
watching pigeons redefine poetry in motion
and scatter palms full of rice grains for
these feisty creatures to savor in delight
and their softly cooed thanks
enhances the sweetness of
the ringing chimes of temple bells…


Citrus Blossomed Mornings…


lemon blossoms

a tempest doused sun
sits outside on cloudy armchairs,
drying limp,blond locks
in the rain-kissed breeze,
watching innocence splash
in puddles to splatter mud on
faint echoes of rain-song
reverberating as violin strains
resounding even after
versicolor epilogue of rainbows
hung on horizon’s threshold.

citrus blossoms sigh
psalms on cerise pedestal of dawn,
whispered lines of poetry
breathed into a silent draft,
caress drowsy eyelids of slumber
like petal-soft touch
of elusive daydreams,
pouring into harshness tortured ears
as soothing,honeyed symphonies.

naked feet on dewy grass,
imbibe ambrosia of nature’s embrace
as nostrils inhale deep breaths
of scented zephyr,
and inquisitive sunbeams sneak
through raven strands
weaving a halo for her face,
enhancing sparkle of her smile.

picking night jasmine
as testimonies of hymeneals
of daylight and moon-sheen at ughten,
she captures withered lemon flowers
in curious palms
breathing in citric fragrance,
but these piquant flowers
like the laughter of snowflakes
are not suitable for temple’s pedestal,
destined to be momentarily sniffed
and forgotten on dewy grass blades
like shattered dreams…

Poetry in Marble



marble temple

temple of blessed quietude
-a poetry carved in marble,
or spun of moonbeams stolen
by dawn from night’s boudoir,


stood echoing with
chants of swaying bells
and hymns of priests
besides guttural grunts
of pigeons attracted to
serene realms of meditation,

while soothing aroma of
potpourri of flowers and incense
filled nostrils of cool breeze.

and this haven of tranquility
stood beside tea gardens in verdure
that breathe fragrance of
rejuvenation to awaken drowsy morns
lazily curled up beneath
fleece blanket of eternal clouds.

wherein dewdrops shone
on chartreuse lips of auxiliary buds,
softly drinking in sunshine,
and giant trees stood
as guards protecting a castle of riches,
amid this beauty of nature
surrounded by distant hills of azure
my youth blossomed
rejuvenated and devoted…