The Aureate Bosom!

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An endearing eventide phasis of bliss is staging so fine;

Graced in elusive imbues of tangerine and burgundy wine.

The fagged wings are harking back to their ardent comfy nests;

Blanking out sweats of tomorrow and all their piddly quests.

Flowers enshrouding their beaut beneath the mantle of twilight;

Solely to evince their colorized grandeur in the day-spring, bright.

The musings in water are sousing in plethora of glinting gold;

Parading a spectacular statement of placidity, Elysian and bold.

Embracing is the dusking sun, the all-time upstage skyline;

Watching is its fervid adorer, swaying on the caramel shoreline.


Image Courtesy:travel.nationalgeographic.com

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Winged Tale……..No more.

Broken_Wings_by_sweetestofnightmares

Born a cherubic birdie in the sulfurous times of the world;

Uprose it apace, needing to wing as high up as it could.

Autographed an unavowed tiny pipe dream on its wings;

Fingered glad and unassailable in its plumy little things.

 

Lightning wracked its comfy nest, in a doomed night storm;

Soaked up is the adult bird, whose feathers kept the birdie warm.

Stomached all the torment, the invalided birdie unable to fairly fly;

Squalled staidly, looming that its ciphered dreams would sure die.

 

Clock elapsed in haste and its fellow birds cut and ran their way;

Palpated the peril, as lonesome, it was highly unwieldy to stay.

Barbarous were the winds of world and tattered was its rest;

Swamped in icy rain, the birdie flapped in vain for its life’s quest.

 

Piloted in, a browny bird, cloaked in cleverly as a feathery friend;

Promising the birdie that its conked out wing, it would try to mend.

Banked the birdie, browny’s parole more than its one and only wing;

Reckoned the birdie, perching atop the maple tree, it could happily sing.

 

Days slipped away and bleached out were the birdie’s rainbow dreams;

Deplumed it was on each sun’s ascent, while curbed were its screams.

Long time glided by and little by little hushed up were its endearing songs;

Was cast off its nest remorselessly and browny abided others’ wrongs.

 

With breached wings and shriveled up heart, the birdie sighed in rain;

Calling God into question, “Feeding me pain, what did you gain?

If pronounce you that entrusting someone wholly, is my offence

Then how can I trust that you would someday speak in my defense?”

 

Pathetic to fly into the sky, wretched to die, hobbled the birdie all alone;

Chancing difficult to retrace the onetime path it took, too far it has gone.

Wings were irredeemably broken and its faith was terribly shaken….

In this unkindly world….will it survive even when everything is taken?


Image Courtesy: http://www.sweetestofnightmares.deviantart.com

The Sanctum of Solitude.

littlehouseonthe valley

Sullen clouds of ego have tardily beetled off and gone;

Egressed I humble, for savoring the unnamed divine.

Respiring mildly I, ecstasy, in the name of air so bare;

Conceived not I, ever so, life would be a howling affair.

 

Inebriated me amply, your bewitching fragrance;

Stupefied me staggeringly, your amaranthine brilliance.

Croaked I wholly for myself and subsisted purely for you;

Such unequaled sapidity of oneness, I nursed no clue.

 

Swallowed I, the span between love and beloved;

While cantillating reliably, your nectarine name aloud.

Oh my, benignant! Let me pulsate in your passion;

And let me get erred ceaselessly like curls in the ocean.

 

Accord me a mercy to commingle in your existence;

Do not keep me hankering for the hallowed substance.

Proffer me death from the unrelenting affray outside;

Sanctify my rebirth in the perfect  sanctum of solitude inside.


Image Courtesy:www.lighthouseonthevalley.com

Swings of Innocence

magic4walls

Lovesome leaf was I, swaying frail and green;

Came an unhoped thief and robbed my sheen.

Life was gentle, nerveless and just plain;

Bore no baggage of hassles, to stock in vain.

Swanned I, in the slow sun struck woods;

Wool-gathered I, in the subdued moony beds.

Was beguiled by the beaming petite fireflies;

Trailing butterflies, whooped I happy cries.

Flipped a pebble to commove the sleeping pond;

Ramped up castles of sand on the shores, so fond.

Diddled with my fluid shadow in the day light;

Numbered the winking stars on the slate of night.

Clock flew the coop fast and the world said “Grow up”;

Slyness moused in and doors of whiteness shut up.

Lessons of growing up are cautiously trusted;

And swings of innocence are rakishly………. betrayed.


Image courtesy: http://www.magic4walls.com

In the wake of queasiness, I call…

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In the wake of queasiness, I call…

Wherefore there is recondite pain?

When spites model in front line, so naked

Why knives on the backbone are disguise-sheathed?

 

In the wake of queasiness, I call…

Wherefore there is orotund confusedness?

When you harp in each and every spell of breath

Why hunt in temples, mosques and churches on earth?

 

In the wake of queasiness, I call…

Wherefore there is gravid iniquity?

When you have scripted our lives’ blank shell slate

Why one bears riches in fate…why poverty is other’s trait?

 

In the wake of queasiness, I call…

Wherefore there is sleeveless hatred?

When you have served up solely love in the plate

Why one is embraced and the other is averted in hate?


Image Courtesy: http://www.imgarcade.com

Petalled Marvel!

ewallpapers.eu

Once in a blue moon, strikes the life’s inevitable arrow;

Aches rich the heart and eyes unfold the dams of sorrow.

I marvel…. how blithely subsists this supernal beauty, a rose;

Hovering cordially amidst the hardhearted prickles, so close.

Endeavors much, the loathly winds, to damp this rufescent lamp;

Nonetheless, walks in pride, this red splendor on storm’s gray ramp.


Image courtesy: http://www.ewallpapers.eu

Forgot to erase…..

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The saline pearls that I forgot to erase………

Bleached out are all my witless vanities in a blink;

Repose, I wordlessly in the moth-eaten coffin and think.

Echoing her name from the elite memories, I have;

Pine I, the balmy touch and warmth of aroha she gave.

 

Oh asterisks! Bedim your glint, for eyes gestates my soulful moon;

Hither descends the angel of mine, aah…my life’s paragon boon.

Autumns she, as the maiden ray of sun and departs as the last rain;

Bequeathing my desolate heart unquenchable, all panting in pain.

 

Robs she, the bereft and sterile soil from my rusted grave;

Aflame in the acerbic quagmire of aloneness, and aggrieve.

Spited she, kneels in orisons and hollow handed, walks off;

Finding operose, the bracing stores of intimacy, to throw off.

 

Oh God, stream your grace, afford me a lone breath of life;

Know you not, knots of love are insubordinate to Death’s knife?

Engrossed in the absolute foolery of winning life’s bootless race;

Treasured salty pelts on her sugared cheeks, I forgot to erase.


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