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

Waltz of spring

After many days from now
When we would have leisure
You would surely ask how
Our words did we measure,

And I would probably  say
It all happened like that song
You when Chopin's Waltz did play
And took me where I belonged,

I opened like a flower
As your fingers ran on board
I took heavenly shower
As it so musically poured,

I looked at your hair
Dancing like a cascade
I dreamt and did dare
Knocking at your gate,
And you like a reluctant lover
Gave rise to those keys
As they rose and also lowered
Like a gust of spring breeze ,

You gave your fingers
Blessed rhythm as cue,
And I in that lingered
Like on  leaf rests dew.

Out of bounds

Just like a dream out of bounds
Her , I , in a sprawling meadows found
Dressed in white , a troubadour
Singing her way, to the horizon sure,
The day was then turning to eve
The breeze was then making a sweep
Over the field , the grassy land quiet
She walked owned by sky's fading light,

Her song had that narration of her past
Her being born out of speckled dust
That oft the twilight writes on earth
She sang of that time of her birth,
She sang how for years beyond count
Her, people in dreams just found
And alluded her with varied  epiphany
She sang how she lived a life too many,
She sang how oft she bore that rhyme
That gave many  that charm sublime
She sang how oft in a poetic surge
Her painted scape in canvases emerged,
Out of bounds just like a dream
The troubadour sang as it seemed
And the meadows half drowned in light
And half in dark, waited, bemused quite.

Wish could I sing for you

Wish could I sing for you,
On leaves as you keep nightly dews
On meadows as you keep your bright
On faces of children your delight,
And I wish you keep me amazed thus
Moments of time as like river pass,
Wish through you I see more of you
How you keep on providing cues
Of life, its beauty and grace
Of heavenly charms and their bless
Of fostering earth and her generosity
Of your kindness and godly piety.

Floating like a leaf with a poem on it

All day long spent doing things
Which carried perhaps no meaning
But when that hour came with the rays last
Of the setting sun's sparkle spread vast
On lands and trees and flowers
And when that gave them all what suited best
How I put my banal mundane  works to rest
And look at the spectacle so revealed,
Yellow green orange colors as my soul fill,
And wonder what is there on this earth
That gives us  moments of this undiluted mirth?

I look at trembling leaves, shadowy trees,
I feel how brushing me goes the whiff of breeze
I take them onto my heart as one in love does oft
I think of my maid kissing on my cheeks soft
I think of living through in wonder , astounded,
I think of getting swayed by magic, not grounded,

And I float like a leaf so bathed by dusk
I float like a leaf with a poem on skin just.

Danseuse on beach

You take on the breeze and unfurl
All that you have for ages  in you
The sea with its waves when swirl
Foam and surf on beach so blue,
You get its rhythm and poise
You find its moves always near,
You get its sounds and noise,
Just  when they come to you clear,

At your feet as they come quiet,
Your winged mind just soar
And  you let them  take a  flight,
As they come to you , ashore,

Then you make a discovery
You take a breath and levitate
You create a form savoury
With music of soul so set,
You perform  magic on sands
You make free all that are caged
By  your wings you touch alien lands
And keep me at your gait amazed,

And I think of you as light as breeze
That flows with rhyme undulating
I think of you as a poem never ceased
That goes on taking ethereal rhythm.

One day of spring

If it is that splendid one
Of a day of spring
I would take the light of dawn
And take within
All that smell and fragrance
Of flowers drenched hap
I would get the perennial sense
Of earth's beauteous lap
And be truely jocund
By the sights and sounds
I would build my own land
Out of usual bounds,

There would I train my eyes
My ears and my heart
There would I with mirth lie
On the blessed earth,
And think and sing more
Of spring as she arrives
I would more poems pour
Taking a plunge, a dive,

And you might think what is it
That creates such a pleasure dome
I would just ask you to sit
And gather dreams there some
Which could make all merry
And fill all with love true
I would ask you not to hurry
But just to get that hue
Of the season's awesome presence
Its overwhelming cue
I would just lend that sense
Which beats that blue in you
And makes you admire
How life with spring gets gay
I would light that fire
Of love of a blissful  day.

Straight from kitchen

Of all those segments of our living

That we cling to morn till evening

Kitchen seems to be the only place sane

There you work and grind and I get to your plane

You put cardamom seeds and chilli flakes

I put cream and pineapple in milkshake

You make pastes of tamarind and ginger

I find how on your apron yellowish tinge lingers

And then when you shout seeing vegs useless

Rotten tomatoes you throw at me with rage,

I look at your cups held in two hands

They remind me of our honey filled lands

Where after our consummation we drank wine

You keep on grinding grains of rice fine,

Together we make our kitchen happy and wise

Together there we fall into silence and then rise

To meet our differences, our forlorn dreams

Kitchen noises and smells oft to our bedroom bring

Hunger and taste of plays that we gotten in our blood

Desserts what we  make dropping lemon juice in curd

Adding a bit of salt and sugar into it

Food what we make to live, to love and to eat.

All for You ,

I wait on sidewalk beside those trees
The day when tells stories to nocturnal breeze,
I wait as wait perhaps those krishnachura red
I wait  vivid , I wait for you , my maid,

And think of You as that angel quite
Who watches over me so stupified
By the charm of spring , by poesy wrought,
I think of You who heaven to earth brought,

And that moment I think I myself surpass
That moment I think I become a Lover just
Who wants not more than what You weave
Who just goes by what You help perceive,

I think of then wandering through the town
I think of You as that painted scape of sundown
Filled with red orange and so many other hue
I think of dreaming nothing but only You,

Maiden of spring

At around this time of the year
When the leaves come up
And scent of new born flowers
Fills  the earth's fertile lap
She oft thinks of her sojourns
To places which gave her the feel
Of walking down the lanes alone
And of getting the fading chill,
At around this time of the year
When the long shadows of trees
Get  inch by inch gradually shorter
She thinks of being taken by the breeze
That gives dreams of finding heavenly lair
And she traces by her mind the day's lease
How she has oft chosen to go and dare
Facing the seasons' changing tease,

At around this time of the year
She finds herself like a tree
She grows leaves on branches bare
And unfurls her wings to see
How the sky comes down upon her
And makes  her the queen of the lea,

At around this time of the year
Spring becomes her.

The Thread

The yarn that you left for me
To spin and weave a variety
Is a fabulous one filled with dreams
And as I work with it, as it seems
I find designs to emulate
Of that exotic curtain at the gate
Of the entrance of your room
I try to find something out of loom
And make it  beautiful and  enchanting
Much like that image of a setting
Of a story of our togetherness
You being lit up by meteors on your face
Telling upon me wonder and surprise
Your hair decorated by fireflies
And your lips supple and generous
Which mine forever long to touch;

All these are so part of that thread
Which you have for me just left
And how I keep on weaving out of it
Dreams, stories and poems as birthday treat,
For in you I am born every day ,
Every month in song and lay
And every year when end comes
I think of you and more of you I yearn,
The thread, that you left for me
Is the one which I spin to make variety
Of patterns, rhymes and reasons too
The thread yours brings me back to you

At the shut of eve

In the woods whence the eve closes in
Whence leaves stop murmuring
There the fairy drops down quiet
To get the feel of glow worms'  light
At her feet they deck the evening
There they make a marvellous setting,
The birds going to sleep at the shut of eve
From their nests they to dreams take leave
Perhaps being enchanted by the fairy's song
They in trees' branches wait for night long,
Till they find how in the woods they have got
All that they always in their hearts sought,

The other creatures also they think of sleep
Night slowly as descend and take a leap
To cover the woods with a serene calm
The fairy as to the glow worms comes,
There she looks down on those lighted things
There she does more of wonders bring,
By her simple and candid state  so blessed
There in the woods she lighted forms does trace.
( the painting as attached upon which the poem is loosely based, was done by Edward Robert Hughes, 1908)

Thinking of spring

As the winter slowly fades away
On glades as flowers bloom their way
I think of spring arriving quiet
Taking crimson the day's light,

Bees they gather in swarm in hives
They think of making more out of lives
They buzz and make on trees home
After winter as  spring does come,

Silkworms break from cocooned sleep
They draw patterns on green green leaves
Moths and butterflies take winged sense
From flowers they gather colorful pollens,

Cuckoos feeling the warmth in the air
Think of songs  they sang another year
Their hearts they with songs do fill
Spring as arrives after wintry chill,

The meadows by the hills get decked too
Wildflowers as there spring awesome view
Trees spread their branches to sky
With blossoms saying to winter goodbye,

And farmers from  fields freshly mown
Corns they carry happy as they own
Singing songs of fruitfulness
Spring as arrives quiet with her bless.