Poem

Phrase that resonates with emotions,
that which arouses a feeling so warm,
that which vivifies our insipid life;
Isn't this the lyric we love to hum?

Words of rhythm, plucked as strands
of different colors, arranged
as a beautiful bridal pleat;
adding to the grace of divine countenance.
Isn't this a sight we love to fix upon ?

An intrepid spirit singing
from his heart, aught but the visage
seen through his eyes of innocence;
Isn't this an elixir of joy we long to pursue?

Metre, length and form,
often imposed to conform,
is naught but a shackle
to the spirit that sees beyond.

Rainbow

Thick and dark clouds
on this desolate earth, as a shroud;
broke open with splashes
of light and bolts of thunder!

Pitter-patter rain drops
drenched the arid land,
elixir of life now impregnated
in the fertile womb of all life.

The musk of wet earth,
dews on petals of different hues;
sky looked blue and limpid,
milieu apt to reminisce about Cupid

Red, blue, green and yellow
orange, violet and indigo;
a bridge emerged of these colors
extending from one horizon to the other.

A little bunch of angels and fairies
were crossing the bridge in blithesome mood,
It gave them joy, the sight of this bountiful garden
which was vivified for them, just then.

'Wherefore was the earth bedecked?'
tried to construe till my mind was wrecked;
Was it a forlorn attempt to remind,
paradise it is, despite our attempt to shear.

Toy Cartwheel

Strength, if light hearts of like minds
coalesce by emotional binds,
like thin slices of pine wood
piled one over other and glued

Burden, if shared with others
becomes light as a chick's feathers,
This governs the concept of wheel
a shape that doesn't let the load feel.

A companion in this life's sojourn
enhance joy and avoid uncalled adjourn
But to win such a heart, sacrifice seems a must,
like our wheel that dug its c

rux as a sign of trust.

To A Friend

As you embark on your voyage,
on a winged plane, soaring to the skies,
we soon shall become a speck for you
and this land, canvas smeared with different hue.

New horizon, ye shall rise to morrow,
marking an onset of a new tryst with destiny.
In every predicament thou may ought to face,
Remember the gospel 'Life is no mere horse race'.

Thy footprint has crossed the great Atlantic,
thrive till the end, for ye shall leave the print for long.
Let your charm and coy nature serve
as a frontage for your innate vigor and verve.

Question of Life ?

Why do I feel the urge to know
What is around,
Why are they
Where they are ?

From the cradle to the grave
we're taught to be suave.
But life, the most abstruse;
is the cause of my mind's disabuse.

Metaphors on life,
never quenched my thirst;
only left me wanting for more.
Life, my ami, is just incondensible!

Like a rising tide in an ocean,
when my heart swells in emotion;
I endeavour to desolate my self,
to witness the nature of elve.


Contemplation on the grand question,
ended up creating internal commotion.
I sometimes fear, if it is nature's ruse
or a sure shot way for self-amuse.

Sister's wedding

Wheel of time has rolled,
memories have begun to unfold.
Those events are frozen in my mind,
Huh! Lucky to have a sister of her kind!

It is a moment of joy and sorrow,
She won't be at home in the morrow.
Her absence will create a huge void,
still I wouldn't for god sake avoid.

My lovely sister is entering a new phase,
May God shower her with all his grace.
Wish the angels and fairies will together flock,
When she enters into a divine wedlock.

Poetic heresy ?

How shall thou let my knowledge kingdom,
know I am bestowed with poetic wisdom?

Seldom do I feel the verve before composition,
Neither do I feel my act, as that of imposition.

Words that are spliced, with no visible connection;
becomes a phrase, with astonishing perfection.

How shall I explain, the genesis of such a thought,
in a brain of my kind, which is otherwise drought

Spasms of thoughts occur, beyond my hold;
cannot say when, it shall for me unfold.

An ability which I cannot demonstrate,
causes my heart to often agitate

When shall thou come and say,
I have not committed a poetic heresy.