The Muse Eternal

Had I not been so induced
Love, by your blessed words
You , wouldn't have been my muse
And I wouldn't have composed verse,
Where would then all my words go
For whom would I then write
Where would then my dreams I sow
How would I then feel the starry night?
Had you been not that one with rhyme
How could I have that epiphany found
And felt in every inch of heart the sublime
And by that in poems got more so bound?
Had You been not the One with providence
Where could I have found my poetic sense?

Exotic purple

You wore purple on you all through
Lavender of one kind that settled
You gave me the exotic view
Of lands where you proved your mettle,
You told me how day and night
You worked to fill your home with smiles
You told me how you put up a fight
And walked alone several miles,
Then you rose to see the day
Like a warrior princess true
Before you as meadows lay
With flowers blooming for you,
Then you took a stroll on the lea
Like an angel of a fantasy.

Few lines written on a sojourn to country

The sprawling fields green came open
To us once we moved through the forest
Cottages that stood in the day's flame
Looked like perfect places to rest,
The rhythmic beats of drum
Filtered through foliage thick
And as they to us did come
We thought what was that music,
And then the day gradually waned
As wane our minds and limbs
We thought of all that had been profaned
And basked in light as it seems,
Then we felt the silence of those ageless trees
And the breeze running through them with ease.

An acrostic poem

Marvellous will you call me
Over the land and the sea
I taking the spring's breeze
New like a day's lease
Arrive will I at your door?
Kite like as will I soar
Dashing down and then going up
Utterly beautiful will I stop
Traveling through clouds
Tied by string of no doubt
Arrive will I at your hands?

If I had to go away to the land of spring

If I had to go away to the land of spring
I would choose a country road through green
Red and dusty and filled with aroma of flower
Which takes human mind to that bower
Where it tries not to make words halt and burst
But it makes them wrought by poesy just,
As it is kept for ages in our earth's sacred heart
As it is kept there from that day of our birth,

If I had to go away to the land of spring
I would choose a country road through green
Red and dusty and filled with serene bless
Which makes human mind to find and trace
How for years it had grown there with ease
How it had caught for years that calming breeze
And made expressive that inexpressible thought
That it always for its unfolding haply sought,

If I had to go away to the land of spring
I would take in me all that life brings
And turn them into poems that soothe
As best as I by my mind possibly could
Create and leave them to take winged charm
Till they meet their rhymes to become
Songs which bear that bounty of earth
As they are kept since the day of our birth.

Being woman

Had I been an existentialist
I would have made a wish
To turn me a woman
For then I would find follies of man
And bear flowers on my earth
And make rivers run to make birth
Of civilisations, habitats and Paradise
I would have created  those skies
Which remain blue and ever lighted
There would I become beauty so sighted
And wear on my skin all that women had been
Wearing for ages, marks of oppression,
Hate, slut shaming, lustful gropings in dark,
I would become just a flying lark
And swoop down only to make a treat
Of women rising up to their feet.

( the photoquote attached is of Simone De Beauvoir's.)

In the time of breaking of statues

Dynasties will pass
They always do
And breaking of nations
Will just continue,

From one regime to another
We will just go
And breaking of statues
Our TVs will show,

You will wear a black badge
I will say it has been right
You will stand there with slogans smudged
I will embrace the night,

Then we will walk past
Our broken country with hate
You will raise your sword
I will think of bullets,

Then oneday on ruined broken earth
We will crawl like men bereft of all
You will think of Jean Paul Sartre
And I would think of how we did fall,

You will then try to mumble and sing
A song of love and brotherhood
I will also my self towards you bring
And over our acts with solemn face brood,

By then our country will turn into desert
Without our huts, homes and settlements,
We will just lie on sands, taken apart
By our own acts of pure nonsense.

Julia, her man and the spring

In her cottage lone and bright
Away a bit from din
Julia had been living quiet
With her garden as it seemed,

Her man, the man who went
To different places for works his
Would come home when the scent
Of spring would catch the breeze,

Julia would wait all months long
All days thinking of him
When spring would give her the song
And glittering waves deck the stream,

She would stand at her door
Peering out to see
If by that pebbled path sure
With blooms woke that tree,

For she knew every year
When that tree would dress up so
Her man would come near
Her with mirth that spring does sow

And then he would come, her man
Walking stones of miles few
He would bring for her stories of lands
And adornments with pinkish hues,

He would tell her how in between
His works and daily fights
He found peace of love clean
Giving him soulful flights,

And Julia would look at him
And think of how is it
Spring comes every year as it seemed
And gives her wonderous treat,

She would think of finding more
Beauty in nature around
She would think of how love pours
Only to keep her bound

To love and her man who
Keeps coming back to her
Walking all the roads to
Her cottage,  on the hills, from far.

( the painting attached for illustrative purpose is part of free internet painting resources, artist : anonymous.) 

O