Ode to dusk

Seeing you,
Settling down,
Dusk of settling down,
Like coming home,
A refuge , to hills,
How i , again,
Feel synced
By your profundity,
Thy shooting rays
Through the cleaved Space
Of nature,
So motherly,

Our only resource of Love,
Our only Teacher, the Best,

Seeing Thou, going to take rest
How i Canst stop clicking thy Beauty
Only to break into more
Of singing at thy heavenly door,
Like a vagrant, a tramp, a lover
Losing self into thy love, so near, yet so far.

Ode To Aphrodite, as The Universal song, *

Whence Thou bestow out of Thy Loveliest Heart,
Rising out of the Sea of Thy love,
Limitless,
Being carried by the shell of
An Oyster,
Like the Pearl The Most Beautiful,
White creamy Glistening,

With sons and daughters Thine
Olds , mid aged, youngest ,
All in Thy Sea merged,

Some wrapped, paired by Thy Love
Blowing counch shells ,
With ribs of archimedianspiral
On them True,
Holding the Universal Love that Thou hath taught all ,
Through Thy Beauteous Soul,

Whence i find the little children
Playing with Dolphins,
Like mates for play,
Water babies all,
Bathing in thy waters
Of Birth,
(And some of Thy children
Afloat over thy sky,
The angels of Innocence primordial,)
Thy Glory Luminous,
i , child like , try, to sing, spontaneous,

How i feel kneeling before Thee
O Venus,
such a Goddess Thou
Whence doth rise in me,
Love , beauty of Thy Sea,

How i wish to be
That dolphin just
Singing songs
For Thee,

Only sending Thou
my obeiscence , filled with peace,
Holding Thy blessedness
Which onto me, comes, unleashed.

(*Note: upon a painting just as attached)

Cooking Tortilla, (all about Our culinary Taste, )

"So, you know nothing,
About how to cook?"
She asked me,
We were then
At the kitchen,
She was pouring oil sunflower ,
Into the frying pan,

'Na... Barring little things,
Not much...'
I reverted,
Looking at her hands,
Supple and busy,

She was busy,
I noted One tablespoon oil
That She poured,
Sunflower oil,

"Can you deseed the chillies? And mince the coriander leaves? Properly? Leave you those stalks, okay?"

She asked, dubious,
Just turning a bit,
To look at me,

"O, that's fairly easy"
Said me,

Wore a pair
Of gloves,
Deseeded the chillies,
And then,
Taking a chopping board ,
Got me busy,
Coriander leaves were to be chopped fine,

She had by then fried chopped pieces
Of onion,
Within five minutes or so,
The oinion
Pieces became soft,

On another burner,
She was boiling
Potato pieces,

"Cherry tomatoes? Chop them too?"
Asked me,

But she was busy,
She strained water
From the bowl
Potatoes got boiled,

"Nah, just wash'em and bring them to me"
She said,
After all she was busy,
Cooking,

I was too,
Was not i?

Making spiced Tortilla
Was our only goal,

Gave her the spices,
Two tablespoons she took,
Noted i

Simple things,
Just like we use,
Back home,
Coriander grained, turmeric, cummin,
Two table spoons,

"Bring eggs, Eight,
Please,
Will ye?"
She me pleaded,

"That's easy,
Fairly,
Bringing Eight eggs just
From the freeze"

I replied,
Brought them too,

She broke them,
Yolk and all,
Stirred a bit
In a bowl,
Then poured
The semi liquid
Yellow
Over the top of the vegetable
Which she made
Ready,

Minutes Eight
More passed,

"Grill, can you , those Breads?
Circular?"

'Tortilla?
O yes!'

I said,
Opened the grill,
Fleshed the Breads,

Minutes two
Passed thus,

The top got set,
We were making it,
Making with us,
Breads and vegs,
We were getting spiced
In our culinary taste,
Our Love,

Out of the grill
Whence our bread came
She sprinkled coriander,
I , chillies,
She sliced,
The wedges good,

I made salad
Meanwhile,

Tortilla,
We spiced us,
We made it,
With circular bread.

At Cafe Global

"Gutten morgen"
That sounded Germanic,
I looked up,
Slumberous,

"Hey! Art thou Pamela?"
I asked,
But hath not She
Spake German?

Being a bit proficient in Sanskrit,
And only a few German words,
I was not sure, the forever uncertain me,
About matters of hearts,
Falls are there nearby,
I heard the murmur,
Through the glass door,
Opened by a fellow traveler,
The air conditioner left us,
Her and me and our poesy,

Water falls came in,
Cascading,
'Somewhat near, my name,
But what's in a name?'
She mumbled,
Her eyes,
Looked like literature,
"Shakespeare? A quote from Him?'
I asked her,
She looked at me,
Smiling beautifully,

'You are such a write!'
She blushed,

Her rosy cheeks,
Became rose like,
Thorns i had all
In me, to bleed,

I took a pen,
'I can gift you a pen, if so you wish,'
She spake,
Again,

'But Pamela?'
i asked, confused,

'But poesy?
Your proclamation?
Oneness?'
She spake, not mincing words Her,

Only those words minced me,
My Soul,

'O Yes!'

I took another paper napkin,
Wrote a few lines,

She perhaps took it,
I smelt her fragrance
Of lavender,
And the cascades brought me,
More to the Cafe,
" such a beautiful World!"
i exclaimed.
"Such oneness!"
She said,

I looked at her eyes,
'Gutten morgen'
I said.

The dream of the sky and sea meeting before me*

Once found you two
Children mine
Standing fully mesmerised
By the Beauty of Sea
Meeting the sky
And and Sky falling on the Sandy beach
As being reflected
Partially , on the waters stagnant,
Seeing you two
Getting dipped into
The Beauty of Love
Of the Motherly earth,
The Nature , so Heavenly,
So kind, so benign,

I thought to click all the five,
The two children mine,
The Sky Of Thy Holiness,
The Sea of Thy Vast, waters from which
All three of us, mortals, were born,

It was, i feel,
Mother mine,
My prayer to Thee,
To give us more
Of Thy profundity,

But only photography
Felt always
Canst reach me
To Thou,

Knowing sheer poesy
Is my forte , if i say that,
If Thou allow me,
To say that , mere,
see, how have i (After so years many,)
Coming back to thy lap,
Lapping waves,
Rolling over my beach,
Trying to pray
Again, through my pregnant soul,
A heart kept in Thy belly,
( prayed earlier, with childish wish,
So fulfilling, )
Taking resort to words,
Wishing only more
Of Thy bless
So ,
I can write my life
To thy name.

(*Note: the photography is done by Me.
The two persons featured , are my better half and my son. The photo was taken by me many years ago, when we went to a seaside place. )

Goya and 'The Disasters of War", a series, *

Sometimes, whence governed
Such by Truth externalized
In poesy , paints and sketches
Whence worshipping Thou the Goddess
Of Universal Love, from whose Womb
we all little figments illusory just for times small Borne,
I find going farther, into Eyes Thine,
Holy Mother, thy eyes,
Of live and creation,
An artist, a soothsayer,
A balm, a Prayer,
Wrought in charcoal black,
Sketches made of papers made by hand,
Rough, like made by lead,
Pencil, or black of thy Ink,
A series of "The Disasters
Of War",
Thirty seven , thirty nine,

O how I get dipped into Thy black scope
Finding more of bloodbath
Done before my birth,
Before, the birth of so called king's and queens,
Before the arrival of harlequins,

The horrendous unleashed
In series polemic,
Truth as Truth can ever made to be,
Only with eyes to see
Filled with ignorance and ignominy,

Ah! How i have a pensive sigh!
Seeing humanity hanging ,
By trees dying too,
Bound by ropes so feeble,

Ah! How i think of Biblical Fables,
Aesop's ones, Boddhiswatta tree,

Ah! How i see your unholy pride
Taking us to illusory Real
And the Most Real
The Universal Love
Of Mother and Thy Eyes.

(*Note: the picture attached is Taken by me , from the Archive of Francisco Goya's eternal works of art and painting.
As it seems, I did , a bit of framing decorations on the painting itself, without anyway maligning the basic art form, which actually I love the most.
Still, if Anyone feels, i have played a mischief with the painting, just do pardon me, thinking of my childish whims coupled with Passion undying for Creativity.
It all goes to making the world beautiful, that's all one can say.
The painting belongs to the "The Disasters of War" series, done by F.Goya, A Spanish Painter, who hath inspired many artists and poets and writers worldwide to seek the Truth and to fall in love with Humanity more. The particular painting is numbered 39 in the series.
There is another, more horrific and bloody, which, I dared not to attach here, for its horrendous imagery.
This particular painting is also photooped by me, to lighten the effect, as one feels, the object of Poesy and painting is not to scare people but to give a rise of The Truth, which can make us Only Free.)

PARADISO as painted *

Today, if By Thy Bless
Thy Sheer Poesy Unwound
Thy Empathy Coming to me Relentless,
Aprile Seventeenth Kind,

If Thou hath Thought It To Be
The Day Of my lying naked like a child
Ready to go get Immersed Fully
Into Thy Limitless, Thy Turquoise Sea,
Like WaterBaby,

If Thou hath to wonders such fore me brought,
Tell me, Love,
How Canst i,
Not find,
PARADISO
In my Soul
Singing , overflowing the brink
Of my little, Hearty Bowl,

But being so ignorant,
Gullible, fallible, an infant,
How Canst i paint Paradiso Thine,
You hath not giveth unto me
That kind of Artistry,

So pardon me,LOVE,
If i go searching for Thou
In paintings Italian, Greco-Roman,
For there I have always found Thou,
Every facet of Thy Purity,
Thy Marble Vault, Thy Statue,
Thy Standing Quiet,
Filling me with more quietitude
And tears of joie de vivre,
Running down , my cheeks,
Flushing me, blushed,
Painting rosy, my burnt skin,

So, let me, sing, once, again,
Through poesy inexpressible
Yet expressed, by toils and sweat
Of Painters Divine,
Of Sculptors who doth Shine,
Eternally, unblemished,
By Ravages of times,

O How i get carried A Way,
To that Paradiso , A Garden,
Where Thou All do Come together,

How i find there,
In that Heavenly Bower,
Sacrosanct, Astrea,
With Her Truth,
Justifiably just,
Arcadia too, singing into me
Loony tunes, childish,
Anteros, so passionate
Working in me to writes and further to songs,
Farther as i get carried, borne by Him,
That Unseen, only felt on my pores of skin,
Corvus, like a Leaf, A Page, waving trembling in the eve's spring summer Breeze,
Copia, like Abundance, flooding my poverty ridden state,
Faunus, like Artemis, woody deep taking me to moist dark,
Making me swear to protect the green,
Motherly Earth, by, planting and caring saplings,
Seeds, more, into earth, true,
Gardening and also in me within,

And whence the eve arrives late,
And by her sighs and her sweetness,
Smiles at me,
Tell me, how Canst i not go to her,
Without any fear,
Knowing how her love hath risen me like her child,
Knowing how into her deep, only Canst i relieve quiet,
As she , like the nocturnal tune,
Plays into my ears,
Her lullaby, her motherly indulgence,

Tell me, whence,
By Thy Bless,
Aprile Seventeenth comes Thus,
What not Canst i not do,
To Praise Thy Paradiso(?)

O the mortal i.

Oft whence i see Thou singing sweet , to the Hills i go *

Oft whence i see
Thou singing sweet
Breaking into act Thine,
Sweet , Wise peaceful and so free,
To the Hills, surely
I go,

I go, following Thou
As Thou hath declared
Clear, in thy voice,
Plummeting me,
To the voice,
The song,
Divine,

Thousand years and even that before,
Those songs had been ringing
In the worshipper's Heart,
Aligned with Truth of BEAUTY,
So eternal, so Pure,

I keep seeing you,
In my waking hours,
In my sleep,

Loving more this life,
Mother Mine,

So Musical,
So Songy,
So innocent,

Ripping me apart,
To tears of unhindered childish Joys,
And laughter ripples down my throat,
My eyes becomes Your Calm,
Your Omniscient Smile,

i go caressing all the flowers
That i have cared so with all my blood
And sweat, dripping from my forehead,
My face to my chin,
Finally to drop
On the Earth, mother,
On the earth out of which i was once born,

Seeing Thou singing,
How i myself become a flick,
A poesy never ending,
A sky FUL of words,
And a mouth so silent,

Only Praying to Thee,
To make me cottony clouds
Of Thy blue blue wonderous Sky,
Meeting ocean of my tears
So beauteously tied.

{*Note: the pic attached is Taken by me,
A screen shot of the Famous flick 'The Sound of Music',A Robert Wise movie, made in 1965, starring Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer, in leading roles.
As one watches and rewatches the movie so beautiful, one some way or other, feels more the Relevance of such a movie more today and for more few thousand years to come. This scribble should be taken as my humble tribute to Robert Wise, Julie Andrews, Christopher Plummer and all the cast and crew of that particular eternal movie with Universal appeal, musically upholding The Truth of BEAUTY and Innocence.}

Ode To Diana, (Upon a painted canvas*)

How sometimes i find Thou All
Painted with how much of paints,
will perhaps i, never be knowing,
Still now that i , soul of a meredevotee,
To Poesy and paints, soulfully
want to kneel and bow,
And sleep quite,
At Thy Feet, with colors of Thou, The Light,
Writing only to Praise and Pray, Thee,

O How my self i
Get dyed, Artemis,
The Sweet Green Mother like, Nature the Refuge,
(In Rome, as Thou is worshipped for ages,)
At Thy Feet,
The Ablest Daughter
Of Zeus and Leto,

How Thy Face,
As i try to worship in me,
Fills me, with only
More of Void, Emptiness,

Whence i see Thou,
After being born,
On the island afloat,
Helping thy Mother, too,
To give Birth,
Of Thy Brother,
Apollo,

As painted so true,

O Artemis, how,
To Thy Birth i kneel and bow.

(*Note: The painting attached was done by Francois Boucher, depicting with masterly strokes of paintbrushes, the Resting State of GODDESS Diana)

Camera and we

Dear, whence you come thus
With your childish smile
Holding a camera,
A greetings Sent
For million years,
Every moment whence
In my eyes' lens
You happen relentless,

Whence morns work in us,
Always, persistent,
Your childish Innocence,
Whence maketh me your child true,

How i think of
Mirrory life,
My wandering
My photography nonsense
Doing no thing
Only for you,

You have so many times
Me asked,
"What's the meaning of this wanderlust?
What do you find?"

Dear,
It's all boils down
To the camera of my mind,

Where with Innocence you,
How Like a Beauty of Truth,
With lovely eyes peacefully reside.

Taking to the sea,

Once tied by strings
On both sides,
Left my boat
At the bay,

It was a morning
Just like today,
On still waters,
Left the boat
And took a dip
Into the translucent turquoise

It had been such an amazing feel
To let the waters run through me,
My eyes, my ears, face, hair, arms, legs,
Every part of my body,

had no Scuba suit even,
Just had the wish
To swim,
To see those school
Of dolphins,
And fish,
And seahorses,
Crabs, turtles,
Starry things,
Glowing deep
Underneath,

It had been such a wonderous swim,
Gathering things, caressing those rocks,
Sands wet, algae all over me,

Still,
Whence i try to be,
With the light
Falling refracting
Through cool waters
Reaching me,
Swimming as I try to do,

How i feel the cool in me,
And how i see those glowing things,
Beneath the still surface
Of a limitless sea.

Finding Anu*

Sometimes, whence Thou become
The forest, sitting Artemis like,
With silence of the woods,
Growing into you,
Much like me
Writing you,
Long, one and half almost
Of lac, worded true,
You sitting by the stream
You dipping your fingers
To cup the liquid
From the cool
And then quenching your Thirst
And me finding You
Sitting back turned to me,
how i find I, and You too,
Deep in the forest
Serene , tranquil,
Mossy leaves under our feet,
You the Wild,
Me the kind,
You the Kindness,
me the writes,
Novelistic,

How i find Boddhiswatta
True,
So close
Betwixt me and you.

{*Note: the picture attached is Taken,
by me and then photoedited, changing and modifying a bit the pic. Hope, the liberty poetic is Given.
Courtesy: Sadie Singh.
Love n gratitude.

The Character of Anu, (can also be interpreted as molecule, the Bengali terminology of 'anu'  being such, meaning a compound of more than one atoms) is portrayed by me, in my novel titled "Online@Offline", published by Lifipublications, in the year 2014, January. The exploration of self and finding one aligned with nature and finding Peace of Beautiful Truth is also there very much in the novel, mentioned.
This poem or scribble hopefully incorporates all these different aspects.
This particular poem/scribble, hence be also categorised as something tending to be 'esemplastic'.}

Ode To The Evening Star, Blakean *

Such an evening, eve,
Come let's sleep,
Under the canopy if the black blue sky,
Weaving Poetry for US
Infinite,
Comes,

O How Thou,
With Woodcarvings Thine,
Printing on papers old,
Embossed a print
On me, soul filled
With poesy unscathed,
Even after so years many,

And i invoke my Muse,
To come to bed,
Embedded we,
Turning free,
Silence seeping into us,
From the sky
Starry Starry
Luminous,

Coming down
Two angels
Having a watch
On our sleep so matched. (*Note: The picture attached was done by William Blake himself, as he carved on wood first, a carving such, before making it to print, the picture itself on page, which accompanied his poem titled 'To The Evening Star'.)

Blakean, the Myth, *

Whence Hand writing on paper,
I find afloat, in the sweet breezy eve,
Coming to me, like a love song,
Thou be come my Creator,
i, only search synergy,
In Your rough draft,
Fountain of Yours
Flowing unbotched,
Art thou hath such a splendid form,
How Tyger hath Thou find in Lamb,
And Lamb, in Tyger, burning Bright
In the forests of the Night,

O how i go, follow,
Thy hand, writing draft,
Thy Myth, The Urizen, The Los,
All put under Sheer Poesy
So Truthfully Wrought,

Beauty, Innocent You,
The Lover of Poesy
And Woodcarver True,
How hath made me wood,
Touché,

Can only little i
Take a kneeling
At thy feet,
Holy Thou,
Whence You
Take me to
Love Divine
Unleashed.

(*Note: The picture attached is the part of the draft, of 'The Songs of Innocence and Experience', an anthology of poems, written by William Blake. Blake followed The Holy Bible and then created His own Myth out of it, bringing the Idea of Los, Urizen, etc.)

Purely Roman, holidaying*

Once, holidaying,
Causing a revert,
No flick happening,
Only You, Isabel
And me, traveling,
Holidaying just,

How i remember quiet,
Sitting by the sea,
Forever, for you, on wait,
A sun set Beauty,
A smoothie , cream like,
Dipping from setting sun,
On the sea, near, so near us,

Haute Couture,
Golden flakes,on your shoulders,
How you showed off, your beauty,
Only for me,
Knowing me, filled with you, poesy mine,
How you turned yourself a brush stroke,
On me, on my pages, on my book,

'Howzatt?'
You the wit,
Asked me,
To cause go fast
My beats
Of a lucid
Rivery blood,
Flowing
Flowing forever
For you,

'English?'
I perhaps asked,
Amused ,
Knowing
That had been
Always your way
To bowl me over,
To bowl me out,

Your lips,
Your red red pout,

How you,
Naughty Isabel,
Came thence,
To make me tell
You with a song ,

Again, a song,
For our beauteous journeys
Evolving , spreading, widening,
Catching the road long
And also your white
Skirt flowing , with floral prints.

(*Note: The painting attached is done by Oleg Trofimov. Courtesy: Musica Pittura e Dintorni)

Come friends all over the World,

Come amigo mio,
Come , frumos,
Come , friends,
Come all dancers and poets,
And all heartful things,
Come let's take to the streets
Across five continents, two polar caps, seven blue blue seas,

Come, we, joyous and free bees,
Come let's dance and do sing,
Love that take us all to the swings,
Let's be sultanas and sultans,
Let's me princes and drama queens,
Come on, you, hiding with fear,
Why shake and endangered
When we are up close and so near(?) Come la amore mine,
Yes, you too, sweet heart, my godly bod, my worship,
My sister, my brother,
Come let's take to the streets,
And make a chill our heart,
Let's catch the springy summer air,
And the calming becoming Breeze,
Come we sing and go with ease.

Ode To Venus, *(based on a Painting by Botticelli)

To Thy Birth Holy,
Thou Venus,
Out of the Mythical Sea,
Carried by the Seashell,
So unblemished,
i try to sing, my kneeling prayer,
Whence the World is so made
Filled with unholy fights,
Violence when is getting into our muscles,
Foul when i have filled my self
Not knowing, ignorant me,
Not pondering what consequences
I have , done , driven by vanity and false pride,

To Thy Birth, GODDESS of Love,
i make a Prayer, looking at a painting,
Done many years before our births and so many deaths, so many carnage, bloody bath, ripping us, within and without,

To Thy Arrival Standing Bold,
Yet so benign, soft,
(Being greeted by Zephyrus,
On Thy Right, singing Winged Poesy
Perhaps to Thy Ears,
His carrying in Arms,
Aura, the Godly Breeze, )
I sing ,
O You, The GODDESS of Love,

and in my white page of mind,
Made empty by perhaps Thou,
Made Void , by thy benign magnanimous Bright,
i try to feel, what Botticelli had probably meant,
What devotion to his Art and brush strokes and paints,
Took him to Thou,

(It, must have been a saintly act,
To paint Thou, as envisioned,)

O GODDESS of Heart, The Purest ,The Divine,
How Thou out of the waters of The Sea arrive and how doth Thou with Aura shine,
Being welcomed true, by Horae,
The Seasons, spreading the cloth,
Of Her, limitless Kindness, perhaps
To wipe Thou off salty waters,
After being Borne, So filled with Divine Bless.

(*Note: the picture attached was done , by Italian Painter, One of the Greats, Botticelli. The painting is preserved in the Country Villa of the Medici, along with "Primavera", indicating the Work was patronised by The Medici Family)

Taking a walk down the avenue, drenched,

You must have taken a walk
As you always do,
Keeping our Love in you,
Through that avenue,
Come what may,

At the breaking of the morn
Catching leaves strewn on you
Fallen by the moist watery breeze,
You must have taken the avenue,

Your head hooded by the cape,
Watery drops running down your nape,
You walking leaves at your feet,
You walking to find a painted scape,

In our city, Napoli, is it not?
Where we had lived and groomed all our thoughts
Our finding Poems, paintings, risings and sleep,
Our making our Love even more deep,

The sea by the villa, must have coming down
To sweep the street and also the town,
Whispering into your ears some songs
Of treading through the road side and long.

(*Note: on a painting done by an Italian painter and artist, courtesy Musica Pittura e Dintorni)

Ode to Francisco Goya *

Thou Art inexhaustible,
Even after looking at thy canvas vast,
Going through thy works,
From Your greatest scenes,
Of wars and people dying,
And correlating Thou
In poesy Ferlinghetti kind,
Of fallen dreams, billboards
Eating up the skies,
Growing by bits, following Beats
Of poesy wrought in pains,
Whence i try to delve deep
Into Your serene sense,
how i a connoisseur just
And a terrible lover
Of Thou, find Thou being so subtle
Almost feathery, soothing, beauteous, feminine,

O How You, Francisco,
In Spanish realm Thou brought
Divine pleasure in forms of art,
It must have broken Your eyes,
Blinded it must have, as Thou had worked,
Perhaps having the broad day, as light
And tapers and candles flickering at night,
To work on relentless, Your Devotion,
In painting the Goddess, The Giantress,
Reclining on Her silken Bed,
As if for The World, keeping On Wait,
As if challenging the human
The fallens to rise up, to discover the primordial,
The Divine spiritual Innocence,

How doth Thou create
Two versions of us,
The naked and the clothed,

How doth Thou make us
To believe, only whence we
Be come a Devotee truly
We can kneel before Thou
The Creator, The Supreme,
Naked like , shameless.

[*Note: the painting attached was done by The Greatest Spanish Painter Francisco Goya, titled 'la maja vestida'(1800-1805).
Francisco Goya created 'la maja desnuda'(1797-1800). Both the paintings are preserved at Museo del Prado, Madrid. Francisco Goya's paintings inspired American Beat Poets too.
Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Allen Ginsberg and the rest. Interestingly Allen Ginsberg came to India, and more specifically to Kolkata and stayed somewhere at Jessore Road and inspired many Bengali poets like Bishnu Dey, to start the Beat Poetry movement in West Bengal.
In fact Ginsberg wrote a poem on Jessore Road itself and his experience of staying at Kolkata and interacting with poets of the city. )

Ode to Calliope (while looking at a painting and thinking of Isabel)

How often while sitting quiet,
Drenched by Thou, the light,
When i come home to You,
All the day's works, leaving aside, due,
I think of you, Isabel, mine,
Our Italian journeys, your smiles,
My childishness, my traveling miles,

And just, Justly then, O how You
The Beautiful Muse of All times,
How You i find, like a painting
Done many many years before
We were born, Isabel, before we met,
A painting done with so much of pains,
With so much of sweat and grit,
For days and nights sweeping through Him,
A mortal great, An immortal Painter,
Isabel, you perhaps know it better,
(Being a painter you, under Amadore's care)

Yes, Giovanni Baglione,
Calliope, The Greatest as worshipped
By our Poet, Dante Alighieri,
{Remember what once i told you
What Dante Alighieri wrote
In the first Canto, of His Divine Comedy(?)
Yes! at the Purgatorio,
He had been so much sure
'I am yours'
Didn't He write(?)}

O Calliope! How much Thou light
The darkest days mine, Bright!

Isabel, you know that too,
Being my love, so soft, a painter,
I am yours , Isabella mine,
For me, you are my poesy and painting Divine,
For me, you are my root, my balm,
For me, you are my birth, my calm,

And here, though, I am writing to you,
Isabel, comparing am i not you,
With that Greatest Muse,
Calliope had been for Dante, for Giovanni,
For Simon Vouet, surely, certainly,
All those mortal greats and immortal souls,
Not for me or for sweet heart you,

We are just lovers two,
You a painter, I a vagrant poet,
But still, will you say, is it really wrong
To worship you, as i do
Worship Calliope, time and again,
If i the Troubadeur one, find
Both Her, Urania and you, isabel,
Whenever i sit leaving aside
All my day's works, idling just,
Thinking of doing poesy,
Looking at a painting true,
Of Calliope holding a vine
In one hand and looking at the leaves
Of a book, She reading , So Divine.

(Note: the painting attached had been done by the famous Italian Painter Giovanni Baglione)

Ode to A Krishnachura Tree,

Oft when  i pass through
The road to and fro
My busy feet treading through
Grasslands, meadows, plateaus, plains,
Cities, towns, hills,
Seas, rivers, forests deep,
Foliage green growing like creepers,
I find you in springy summers
Standing spreading all over
My little head, (with the waves of dust and heat swallowing
Sent shooting by thousand megapixel bright,
The ever glowing beacon, The Biggest Light,)
In your branches I find red krishnachura blooms,
They dot the sky usually colored,
As if my love has gotten there,
Dotted and painted, so sanguine, red,

O You, the Tree,
Bearing myth of our lovely life
And so much of me,
How often do in me eyes,
I find you, life, giving shelter , like a canopy,

You will probably laugh
Thinking it is not the first time
I have taken you to my office,
To my notebooks,
To my scribbles,
To my leisure,
To my nothingness,
So empty, emptied by You,
So , so made a Void,

But then,
Love mine,
If you come,
So , like that Tree
Giving air oxygenated
To mortal me,
Greening me
Making me sleep
Underneath you,
At your feet,
A Troubadeur me,

How Canst i,
Not sing
An eulogy just
For you, love,
My cynosure
Of eye.

Loving You ,Amigo mio,

Your redness love
Is oft a tangy feel
On my tongue
Whence i think
The way you make
Pickles for me,
Hot sweet lemony,

Pickled i then become
In your redness
In your love i find appetite
To write more,
To make gardens on terrace
To provide those saplings
Water and shade,

For in You i live,
In your tangy lemony red
Amigo mio, in your sweet hugs
And loose embrace,

Your love, is so entangled a thing
That i feel myself fully free
Only bound to Thee,
eternally,

You might think what kind of garden
Do I have, flowers and kitchen too(?)
I would say, why not , so
Gardens can be many ,
On terrace, made with the help
Of tubs and pots, and in front of
Our house too,
Much like at our backyard,

Greenness if we find,
Love, in you and in me,
Loving us perpetually
Then, who cares, where we grow trees
And little saplings, on terrace
On in you and me,
Making us devotees
Of writes, poesy and creativities.

Billet doux rosy for You

As have i made
A promise to you maid
To love you forever,
Like waters of my writes
Flowing like a River,

How can i not
Love the way you send me greetings
From your heart
So rosy, so soft,
Smelling your lavender
And blossoms of cherries
All over my heart,
My hands,
My deep,
Where you I like a Promise
Thou keep,

Come love,
With your petals and leaves
Make me fragrant more,
So that i without standing
At thy door,
Fall upon thy leaf,
Papyrus kind,
Leaf like,
Only with love
To sleep.

For friend and love mine

Whence You send me
Mirroring exact
What i have been whispering
Murmuring like leaves do
In the mildest softest sunny springy morn's breeze,
How i my self for you, friend mine, ease,
I can see, how you laugh and giggle,
How you in my songs of Love sizzle,

Loving you Mon amour is such a wonderous thing,
That you for me, wonders of childish smiles bring,

And i, your best truest friend,
Just try to reciprocate,
Like friend dipped in Love had done
In the past, in times immemorial.

For You, roses mine

For You, roses mine
Leaving am i
At the heart of Thy sky,
They are straight taken
Softly awakened
From thy garden of Paradise
That with Thou
How have i tried for years to grow,
The roses and blossoms Thine
Are so overwhelming, over pouring,
That i Canst but leave them there
The way you have left them for me,
In picturesque scene of Thou,
The Holy Mother, the compassionate Wave of the Calm, The Deep Blue, The Lea,

I am leaving the bunch of Roses,
The way Thou hath left them for me,
Greeting you, with my morning's rise,
Drenched by motherly love of your knowing eyes,

Knowing Thou, The Omniscient,
Doth know it all, how in Your Vast, The Infinite sky,
i like a dreamy lighted feathery cotton cloud wander and fly,
i am leaving my love in poesy wrought
in form of an indelible art,
Knowing there is no way other
For me, to reach Thou, Holy Mother.

Be friending thou, (a love song for All lovers and poets and scientists and philosophers)

Befriending you
Is like finding Thou
Every moment, every day,
Every nights, every acts,
Fictions and real , real facts,
All merging into us,
Getting ready to Catch The Wonderous Bus,

Holding a Leaf layered with natural wax
Preventing you and me,
From getting wet sure
Yet loving the rains in our eyes,
Which our hearts pink and red with love writes

On pages, cards, greetings, morns,
On eves, springs, summers, like Milky Way Turned,

Fully us filled to the brim
Going forever, for You going,
Through the shines, through the dim,

Befriending Thou is so kind a thing
Moist, softened, like a fountain of A spring,
Enlivening, rejuvenating,
Becoming You, Discovering,
Self filled and signed selfless,
Like wearing every moment love filled dress,
Walking through seas , lands and also the space.

Flute players two

Sometimes,
When in your eyes i drop my self,
When in your music, flutist mine,
I find my Soul,
Taking me away from me,
Filling my Heart's bowl,
To a place where nothing remains,
Only Tears of limitless sense,
I try to feel, you, Love, Your Space,
The eternal child in my love turned dense,

i then be come lover Thine,
Your devotee,
Your requited mate,
Your never quenched thirst,

And Coolness in the air
Comes whispering
Into my heart,

Calming me
Enbalming,
Caressing
Nurturing,
Singing,
Dancing,

How benign Thou doth then me bind,
In my belly of Heart,how child like
You leave wonderous songs, so Divine,

O how i get into thy unbodied scape,
Only you and me,
How into a joined Heart, escape,

Your Music all over me,
So trance like, so dreamy,
How makes me feel liquid semi,
In my deepest sense,  my waters,
O how you send me sweet jitters,

Then i also make a try,
With you to silence fly,
Feeling how air blown into wooden pipe,
By fingers controlled, softly just,
makes the breeze to make  swipe,
Turning silvery flakes a gust
Of cool spring evening's wind,

O how you the flutist mine
Make my song with you aligned,

As i keep picturing You
Two playing, flutes, side by side,
Creating Holy watery tide.

Loving Thou

Fill me with Thy light
O the Holy, The Might,
Feel me,
To permeate by mortal body,
Make me Love Thou more,
Make me your devotee true,
Love me,
O the Holy
Love me,
More
Make me
Make me to make it with you

Fill me with the cascade of your winged poesy,
Bring me
To your lovely sea,
To your core of a rose,
Make me fragrant,
Tug me boat ,
To thy love all encompassing
To thy refuge
To thy Potent Love
To thy wisdom
To thy Innocence
More.

Loving Thou, Isabel mine ,

Every time I think of you
Isabella mine,
I think of our times
At Port Alba,
You going to classes
To attend to painting
To Amadore,

Cicero dropping you there,
To that alley pigeon pooped,
The street where I would wait
For you to return,

You going to the park by the sea,
Wearing a flowing white long skirt
Your auburn hair taking the salty breeze,

Every time
I think of Thou
Isabel, GODDESS mine,
How my eyes become watery
Filled with love sweet,

And your waving at me
From your balcony,
Smelling so much of flowers
And pizza and cuppa of coffee,
Early morning slight
Held cool on dewy misty railings
And lampposts
Standing like guards
Only for us,

You once asked
'Why are we here?' I perhaps said nothing,
To notebook I looked
And talked only the evolution
And the species , earth, nature,
And Our origin,

Isabel,
You know that all,
What can more I say,
For Thou, I rise
And for Thou,
To you, your lap sweet,
Cosy, motherly,
Oft how see,
I fall.

Telling you a story by Loving You more,(all in the script of our philos-ridden Love)

Yes, how have I
Tried to tell
A story
Of Love and forgiveness,
Not only printed in form of a book just
Getting pennies, making me rich,
But also to You reach
To help us make us better,
With wings of flies, moths, and
Life as creamy as Butter,

You may think of me as unwise
A fool , too romantic, idealistic,
But then, dear,
Tell me,
Had they not been here, like a Tagore
Or an Einstein,
Or even other mortal greats,
The older and the most beautiful ones,
Aristotle, Plato, Confucius,
Had there not been
Rivers of flowing writes,
Literary and philosophic,
All going to the Oneness of Us,

Where have We have really stood(?)
Come, dear, let  us make love,
Read more and do edits
Of our lives,
And lives of our dear ones,
Thinking all as mere mortals,
Living as One Big Family,
Can we do not that(?) Can we just that be,
For our betterment
As lovely We.

#odetoallloversofpoesynwriteUpsncreativitynPhilosophynLove
#lovetoCarlosFuentes

(*Note: the picture attached is clicked by me from the editorial page of The Telegraph, Kolkata Edition , of Today.  The coloring and cropping are however done before posting here as attachment to the write up)

Whence under Thy watchful Eyes, Aphrodite like, we two play

Whence under thy watchful Eyes
Mother, GODDESS as Thou Art
Behind of our birth,
We twin brothers
Kids just play,
Anteros and Eros like,
Leaving aside our arrows
With which we sometimes each other
Unnecessarily shoot,
You must be
The Happiest One,
Seeing us holding the leaf
Together, of a Palm,
A feathery one,

Under watchful Eyes Thine,
O Mother mine,
How we kids two,
Leaving aside our arrows and bows,
Come together to hold aloft
The leaf, held true feathery, soft,

Then we know how we be come one,
Truly your angelic sons,
Propagating Peace and Happiness
Becoming lovely Writes,
Hosting and loving more Erotes,

We then fill all with love,
Tending those suffering
From poverty and unmitigated grief,
From love also , unrequited,

Under watchful eyes Thine
O mother , Mother mine,
How we leave aside
All pains and unholy tides,
Becoming one truely,
Feather of a leaf, as hoist we.

Finding flowers by the lake, one morn

Wandering lonely
but not alone
Given my self to Thee
O the Goddess of awesome motherly Beauty,
Whence i come and seat
By the lake
Where flowers from grasslands peep
Being drenched by beams of light
How i look at you amazed,
And how i wonder what treasures Thou keep
In your abundance of greenery,
So lovely, Benediction filled,
How by the lake , by your kindness,
I get within a cool, calmed state, yet
How i, by thy Innocence, get thrilled,

And i make a promise to me,
In mood vacant, feeling the void,
I will come to you, to be in your Lea,

Cause only then i can fully be
A worshipper true, of Thy all encompassing Beauty.

For You, Two,

For You ,
Two,
Every day i rise
To see you,
Unfolding your petals
By the grace of light
And moist air , kindly dews,

To see you two,
Smiling at me,
Grown out of the yielding earth
so, so fertile, so homely,
Being born from the rose tree
You two blooming quiet, pretty,

Kissed by Her awesome Beauty,
Held in your petals, fair,so Godly,

I rise, every day,

My darling buds,
Of Writes and wonder,
To see, you two,
How oft i go about
Taking roads away,
How i ,like a vagrant,
Oft I wander, to go and to come
Back Home, to pray,
To get touched by your love, so fragrant,

O how every day,
Only to see
Two of You, i pray,

Blooming roses,
Buds true,
Out of same origin,
Just like me, by light and water
Rising, sleeping, believing,

In morn's mild breeze, singing,
Loving the love of that Beauty, in your petals holding,
I rise, every day,
My darling,
Buds of spring,
Summer, autumn,
Winter, monsoon,

For you two,
I sing, I swoon.

Ode to an Evening, filled with Love and poesy*

If Thou come and take a seat,
Where once we by chance did meet,
Just like an evening , with moon over Us,
And stars shining overhead,
If Thou come, Love,
Dressed as Vakarine,

Looking up at the night sky,

O if Thou descend into me,

Like once Thou made Vernon Emile

To make you, to see You externalized,

Through gifted strokes of brush,

If Thou, come, 

O You, The GODDESS born

Out of Day and Night,

The Sun and the Moon,

Can you imagine

What will happen to me?

I will just take a dip 

Into Your Love,

Your calm , 

And will bask there,

With buckets of paints

All over me 

And songs coming out of me

 Unpremeditated, spontaneous, effusive, 

Like getting to You, 

O My songs from Heart,

O My throbbing Poesy.

(*Note: The painting attached was done by Emile Vernon, a French artist and Painter, depicting the Goddess of Evening Vakarine.)

Ode to the nymphs of eve

Come ,
You , to the garden
Of me,
Not like Hesperides
But with our son
Coming Home
To the waters,
Come
Love mine
To the garden
And that Apple Orchard
Where Golden Fruits
Have started to promise us
Beautiful eve
Of our Love stretching
To meet us never ending
In forms lucid juicy
Like oozings
From our Love drenched Hearts,

Come Eve
Come on

Fearing no hatred,
Only loving me
And our garden of Poesy,

Come,
To the leaves
Getting drenched
By Waters of our Eyes
So filled with love of Ye,

Come eve
Come,
As You wish,
And as I may.

Ode To Aphrodite

Knowing Thou Art far Away
From this mortal World
Every day giving up
To acts unholy,

Still,
Canst You,
O GODDESS mine,
Canst You,
Come out of Thy Vault,
Marble and upon me
Descend soft,
Like the way Thou rose
Once from Aphros,

Now that i have made friends
With dolphins, mirrors, myrtles,
Shells, swans and turtles,
All those that Thou admire oft,
Canst Thou be come Urania,
And light my eyes with Your Celestial light?

Canst Thou come,
Love , Love So beautiful,
Filling my Void with Thy foam,
Feather, blossoms,
Canst Thou hold me
Tight to thy Bosom,

Knowing i can never be Adonis,
But Your Dolphins,Your Myrtles,
Have i not loved, loved like You dictate?

Canst Thou come,
Aphrodite,
To turn me
Not Ares,
But Anchises,

True,

Merged in thy Aphros,
So watery, so turquoise,

So  Blue.

See, for Thou how have i given rise to blossoms

See, GODDESS mine,
How by worshipping Thou
Relentless,
Have i grown a garden,
A garden of fragrant me,
Pollens and bouquet of Roses,

See, The Joys of my heart,
How by thy providence,
I have turned to Paradise
Not seen oft my my mortal eyes,
But by Thou, only your Eyes, the Purest,

Come, sweet heart, come to my garden,
Have i not watered and caressed
All those saplings like little blossoms colored
Only for Thou, the Sweetest.

#lovingUMore
#soulfulramblings
#gardenmine
#wakingwithloveforthee
#Lovesong
#MornlikeBlossomingHeart
#RisingRoses
#TruthBeautyInnocenceLovePeaceDivinity
#Paradisonotlost
#lovengratitude

Morning to us*

As SHe is your soulmate
Why keep Her away on wait
In your eyes, at your gate,

Call Her to Heart of yours
Let your eyes be blown by tears thine.

(*Note: A transliteration of a few lines done by me,  from R.Tagore, as a humble tribute to The Greatest Poet, Writer, philosopher, essayist, novelist and Bard of all times)

Ode to The GODDESS of Learning and Creativity and Wisdom eternal

Now that You the Truth Fairy of BEAUTY
And Wisdom,
Now that me finds Thou
In every act of my scribblings,
The songs of my rowing ,
For many years,
As Only for Thou have  i tried
To Give Up my smallest self
At Your worship,
Penning so moments many,
Small little fragments of Time,
As captured in my mind,
And on paper white,

Now that with Thou have i
Made a lock of Love,
The fairy of writes,

Seeing Thou
With feathers
White afloat,

Justly just beside Thou,
And You levitating,
Prithee,
Keep me,
Feathery,

So that as long
As i, can write,
Give me a little of Your levitation,
Your Winged angelic creation,
A bit, out of Your piety,

For as i have after being so
Bound by LOVE of Yours,
Can do no thing.

Ode to Egeria,

O Nymph of Water,
And fountain of Spring,
How Thou with my soul doth create
Writes written on pages of my mind,
White and glowing by light which thou doth permeate,

I find Thou in every moment of my life,
In my veins, blood, how beautifully embedded,
Why art thou so green, so stone faced,
Why Canst Thou come to me, thy son,
And with feathers of Thy hands,
Why not Thou touch my all,
My books, my ink pot, my wooden piece
Of useless bits of furniture, why not Thou tease
And take them away with You, the Lotus Divine,
Why not You come to my house
And open me further by thy Holy stare,
Why not Thou turn me Your Child, left for Your Care?

Am i still unworthy, nothing, a vagrant, wanderer page,
Am i still not Your Devotee true,
Now that You find me standing at the ledge,
Only seeing You, Your vast spread across nights and days?

Whence the Night Sky Starry will Descend

Whence the Night Sky Starry will descend
Upon us, the Sandy beach, white,
Where you and I have thought of
Spending Our Joined Life in Vacation Oft,
Will We look up seeing those Stars studded sky
That Sky which hath remained over Us,
All through, since our Birth, since every time lapse,

We Will find then the paintings of the Seine,
The River where we have left our keys of Heart one Opened,

We Will, by songs of Sheer poesy will
Be closing up, us, wrapping us with kisses All over our burnt skin, parched, purged,
Turned blue,
by The Love of Your Limitless
Our heaven of Becoming A Lovely Couple True,

You will then run your fingers angelic
On my skin, my hair, my forehead,

And I with sleepy, calmed soul, in your lap,
Just get dyed, by the songs of our Love,
Starry night, Van Gogh, Don Macclean,

We will become by Holy Knot tied,

And the Night Sky will we hold
Between little gaps of ether, between us.

Ode To Helena

Whence me finds Thou,
Standing on the hills,
Away from the empire spread
Vast to unknown charters
i think of Thou, how by Your Love
A devoted Heart, You made
A promise to Constantinus,
Not to be tamed, by falsities, penned
Against Thine, by non believers,
How You gave Your Heart, Arms and Soul
For People who had lost their food, their corns, their bowls,
How You stood erect to outshine,
All propagandists chasing mere dimes,
How by Your Holy Spirit doth declare
Human Must return to the Innocence Fair,
How without thinking of any reward,
Thou only , only Loved the Wooden shape
Which gave You all the Hope to plant trees on barren landscape,
How You even after being cursed and dictated,
Made Thy Self to Rise, for the salvation of Thy land, thy fate,

Seeing You,
Helena, The Most Beautiful,
The Merciful Most,
How i just take a seat,
Right at Your flowery feet,

How i by fortitude Thine
Become Yours,
Yours love,
The Divine.

Finding Love birds We

Love if you come
And into my feathery heart
If Thou put your pout,
I would with my songs
Whisper, into ears thine,

You would then more with me merge,
Our cove, we would then make One,
We would be singers true,
In our joined hearts we will view
The World, the north, the south, the east, the west,
In us, we will find our sleep, our solace,

And then the world will just think
Finally we have reached that brink
Of our Lovely passion outpouring,

Then , just , there will be that sublime Void
In which only Peace and Beauty can come alloyed.

Prayer to LOVE, Muses True, Perennial,

Come love,
Come Thou Art,
O You the bright
The light Thou light
On my cornfields,

Come Proserpine,
Come Ruth,
Come Helena,
Come Artemis,

Come onto me,
My cornfields
Golden, drenched by love,
All yours, have not Thou seen
How specks of gold fills me,

Come ,
Love mine,
Amaze me,
Take me
To Your Perpetuity,
Your never ending satiety,
Your purity,
Your lighted landscape,

Come,
Goddesses,

Help me be
Your golden dress,

You my Heart's red,
My blue seas,
My green,
My streams,
My cascades,

Come,
Goddesses ,
Keep me
Be~mused.

Roses for Thou

Have you seen
That bunch of Roses,
That i have kept
In me, for you,
For so years many?

Have Thou smelt
My fragrance
Soft on petals and leaves
That i have kept
In me, for you,
For the eternity.

#lovingUMore
#eternitied
#allinthenameOfLOVE
#Roses
#bloomingme
#blossomsmine
#Devotion
#poesynwriteUpsnCreativityalwaysbecomesPrayerreachingTheDivine
#odetoGrace

To SHe, The Beauty,

She , is , if your love,
Why keep her away,
From you, so?

Call her, let her come
To eyes yours,
Sweeping you,
Making you cry and weep
With happiness
That you have never found in haste,

Call her,
Make Her a Prayer,
Weave a song ,
A thread of Love to be Worn

By you, and by her,

Your love who resides
From you, so far,

Drop a bead,
Count on beats
That Heart Thine
Makes on her eyes shine,

Your Love,

Kneel before her,

SHe,

Who you know,
And who knows
Also my love

And my poesy.

Loving You, Good Morn,

Come,
Love,
Let's be bouquet just
Fragrant, lucid,
Beyond our physics,

Let's be
Bouquets filled
With our Potent Love
Calling all of us
To join hands
And create a make believe
Of a World
Heavenly,

With our bunches of flowers
Come sweet amigo mio,
Let's give a call to the bees
And butterflies,

And out we pour
Our jar of Honey

To make our life
Coated
With love
Sugary.

A tribute to Tagore, the old and the young eternal, (ode to a photographic portrayal of a Mortal Great, A Godly One in Human Shape, The Greatest Bard)

Found Thou,
So Young
Standing Tall
God,

Standing there,
With a scroll of paper,
An adulation (?)
In Thy Hands,

At a Park perhaps,
Taking in the Air,

Such a Way,
Yours,

Lord,

What a way,
Thou keep Your Poetry
Spread ,
Holding a sway,
Onto me,
And on US All,

After so many years,
Centuries as through us,
Had like waters of Rivers passed,

Thou,
Standing poised,

Lord,
With such a Genesis
Of Poesy
Scrolled
In Thy Divine Immortal Hands.

Ode to My Love, The Goddess, the Aurora, *

No good extraneous can bring changes to Me, I am the Change I can cause unto me,
The love that bestowed by Thou can Only
Bring love Thine to my little heart, and that can bring more love Thine, teary ,
And i will, by thy beautiful love, Will be Karma Thine,
All I can do IS no thing but Thy Gift, a shower , rain Holy, upon my parched, Pestilence stricken soul,

Love me more sweet love mine,
I wish to drink wine straight from your red
Your kind, your wholesome, your awesome petals, soft, kindred,

O love mine,
Come and put me to rest,
To Your bless, to your Mighty Heart,
Like a son being born new, after rains.

(*Note: inspired and expanded from a short paragraph, a cryptic one , of a friend mine, Shri/Mr. Sagar Sen. Also, a tribute to a song by a popular Rock Song Group, Scorpions)

Waking Up With You

With love,
When we wake up,
You and I
And our dreams,
We can feel in us everything
And everyone,
The world it seems
Come to us to tell
That we have never loved
For good for nothing,
Cause Love has never failed
To light us, with Her kindest Heart;

With love
When we rise,
We see our sons
And daughters in our eyes,
And for them we live,
For them we pray,
For them we kneel,
For them we take  The Milky Way,

We Go Space,
We wear newer dress,
We go Hills,
We go plains,

We dance,
We jog
We ruminate,
We our Love spill,

And IS THAT
Not a wonderous thing
To feel the breeze of Autumn and Spring,
With Your parfum forever emanating
Drenching us
Becoming
Flowers soft and reddened true,

Woken by Kisses
Of Only You.

Loving Thou, IS like making journeys From dot to eternity and Back

Once ,when the morns
Broke into us,
Found i sleeping still,
Covered by the hardest shield
Our softest life
Rested inside
The Shell,

A snail
Found I,
Coming home
To our bay,
Ashore,
Lured and guided
By Our scriptures old and Pure,

By Waves Thine carried
Beautiful,
Dotted as We
For eternity
We our heels cool,
Rested complete,
On the beach,
As we with sands of times
each other with timelessness Greet,

Tiny, apparent
Slow,
Snail like,
Wrapped in a shell,
Sprialled as we,
In our Love bound
The decaying greed
When we in us Justly  felt,

We made a promise to put everything back
The way The Universe
Wanted us to be,

You and I
Shell like
Feeling One
Perfectly We.

For Thou, Sweet Heart,

For Thou,
Heart,
Am i on wait,
Perpetual
Wait here I am causing
To you and me,

For to You, have
Not i said,
I have made
Love to you,

It had been such
Our Bed of Roses,
Full of our promises
Of giving birth
To our suns
And moons,

O how much We
Have courted romance,
How much have We
Lived to live by trance,

Had we ourselves Doped(?)
If that dope Thou hath in us
Poured, loving, our lands,
Then, We can
Always put down
Our sabres sobered up
For our knives cut no wounds,
For our steel make no rust,
For we are but Your earth, your dust,

And when You think of
Making me embrace
You Soft, you the Deep,

How moist i remain,
In your eyes,
Meteorologists then,
Heard have I,  claim
Showers have arrived,

But I know what those waters are,

Your honey, upon parched lips,
Mine, making a fragrant descent
Of a rise,
Genesis
Of me,
Of Love,

And the green valleys
Of us.