Summers thrummed sunny song;
Burning down, staggeringly long.
Sopped up are its oodles of rays;
Still surfaces, the warmth’s chase.
Monsoons gestated, over again;
Birthing puffy clouds…….. in vain.
Wells high, rained and drenched;
Thirst’s quest, still unquenched.
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Rainfall rollicking a game, slewing from the cloudy baskets;
Winds weaving tickles and driblets donning, chiming anklets.
Rocking the leaves, the new-sprung freshness in the cradle;
En-kindled are unvoiced feelings, chancing a way to dabble.
Stars shimmying in delight, bedecked and arrayed up above;
Intones of ecstasy, spieling richly and scorned ail, sitting low.
Scrooching she, the Night sky, tacitly across the quieted lake;
Underneath the witching moonlight, along the all unawake.
Lake, rearing to imbibe from the luscious lips of the night sky;
Crimsoning she, in the velvety veil, meeting her lover’s eye.
Swooning are the moments, steeping in novel lilacs and lilies;
And hallowing amply, is the orphic love’s aeonian embrace.
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An impeccant dream, missed in time’s leap;
Buried to arouse from the slumber so deep.
Fear swigged and stilled in ocean of my sighs;
Pocked to essence and caged in my free eyes.
Trusting to booze from the realism’s lil stream;
Waitressed in the duskiness to testify its gleam.
Unaware; it was mere a mute and lapsing cloud,
Damned to rain. Rising to stay? No, not allowed.
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Doomed slackly to a benumbed branch so barren,
Dangling in faith, I, the only unfrequented lantern.
No more bright tinges for eyes, but pallor for hue;
Burning up in winter, a colossal penance I pursue.
The knavish snow slants on my hoary shoulders,
Cloaking my spark with its lily-white gelid borders.
Withal I go- thawing soft, this frost-bound night…
Lighting the roll down of darkness, bilking my sight.
Jugging the hot ambers in me, whipping my core,
Maneuvering I am, for you to attain your shore.
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Springs she, at the edge of sienna sand;
By the iciness of turquoise drunk sea.
Subsisting her verity, bosoming her bliss;
Tantalizing her kismet, careen to her tune.
Springs she, in her honed brokenness;
Becomingly torn and graciously spirited.
Sensing too alive in the fleeting moments;
Ardently in passion with her solitary life.
Springs she and her soul, profoundly merged-
Hand clapping euphorically, hollering aloud.
As bluey curls show up in the incommoded sea;
Tones of emotions paints the blanched SHE.
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Swooning scent of the wettish earth;
Inflames the stubbed out wordsworth.
Dallying is the crisp iciness in the air;
Hankering for a warm shoulder to pair.
Freshening are the doting memories;
As the sweats of tomorrow softly freeze.
Blushing is the longtime drenched night;
Beneath the veil of silverish moon-light.
Lone soul minding to mellowed whisper;
which the perfumed raindrops author.
Moments, edging the heart’s feelings;
Winging my spirit to the starlit ceilings.
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Lily-white snow is bussing the branches so black;
Swaying in desire to beget the blushed glory back.
Colorings, slithering into the blueprints of paleness.
Will these hushed up hues ever whistle in brightness?
Aware are the dried twigs of their deadness inside:
Yet, fancying for the sprightliest springtime besides.
Disgraced not they, of their nakedness in the day:
But jubilating at the greenish gown, earning their way.
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Strings of Soulfulness 