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  Mar 3 Vianne Lior
Àŧùl
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I See Desperation In Her Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Senile Captain Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look Just Clueless To Which He Simply Replies, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
November 28, 2012 poem.

7 Stanzas Of A Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream Written In A Lonely Evening Reflecting Upon What I Lost Due To The May 7, 2010 Accident.

Read the entire Angel Saga by me, Atul Kaushal.
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-saga/

My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

I thank you all so much for the overwhelming response that this poem has received.

If you get interested in reading any of my novels after having read this poem then do visit https://www.amazon.in/Atul-Kaushal/e/B00NIQ5MTC/ for buying any of my stories.
  Mar 3 Vianne Lior
Àŧùl
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I See Desperation In Her Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Senile Captain Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look Just Clueless To Which He Simply Replies, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
November 28, 2012 poem.

7 Stanzas Of A Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream Written In A Lonely Evening Reflecting Upon What I Lost Due To The May 7, 2010 Accident.

Read the entire Angel Saga by me, Atul Kaushal.
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-saga/

My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

I thank you all so much for the overwhelming response that this poem has received.

If you get interested in reading any of my novels after having read this poem then do visit https://www.amazon.in/Atul-Kaushal/e/B00NIQ5MTC/ for buying any of my stories.
  Mar 3 Vianne Lior
Leo
An year ago began a story,
Like any other,
Two lovers live a tale,
A journey, a song ready to be played.

The Boy~

Chasing his dreams, the handsome boy knew no bounds,
Falling in love was the last thing his mind could topple around.
But destiny had a surprise in store,
His life was going to change,
His heart even more.

A dream came by,
Smile worth a million dimes.
His heart skipped a beat,
In that moment,
Destiny wrote their names,
with a heart in between.

He never thought someone could understand him so well,
To believe what he said,
To feel what he could not tell.

He knew he had found the one,
Whom he could trust,
Who cared for his innocence,
Whom he loved more than anyone.

Time passed, things changed.
Fights , ego , laughter,sorrow, paid a visit.
But the bond still remained,
Forged by destiny,
His love will always remain the same

The girl~

She had the world at her feet,
Excelled at everything,
But still,
A void remained down deep.

Meeting him, something struck her heart,
Her father's presence came to life.
She knew he was the one,
Whom she could trust,
Things she told none.

She found him a little dumb,
Naive to what the world had become.
She knew she had to protect him,
Against all harms life brought within.

To feel his touch was what she wanted,
But destiny put her to test,
Her wish was not granted.
Living at the mercy of fate,
She knew she could not stop,
He told her often"THIS TOO SHALL PASS".

Time passed, things changed,
Tears, silence, ego crept in.
But even then they came out as one.
Her love was something uncommon.
Even a thousand miles seemed less, often.

The Poet~

I can't tell you what is true,
I am a poet,
My poems are at the mercy of love's virtue

I feel this story has just begun,
To be remembered by many, not one.
Their love is pure,
I can feel it inside,
For I heard them whisper" FOREVER STAY BY MY SIDE."

I've seen them live,
I've seen them love.
Now I see them rest, beside one another.

A feet apart they lay,
My occasional visits and nature,
Are the only ones who stay.

Some days the winds blow heavy,
Nature uses its brute force.
I still stand in the rain,
My ritual cannot go in vain.

Just as I near the end of our conversation,
Something old catches my eye,
Engraved in the stones,
It still makes me smile.
My steps recede, the music silently dies..
The tombstones say
" FOREVER STAY BY MY SIDE".
I see the world today and lasting love seems to be a myth. The world works on change. People change faster than new clothes. And so does love. Short and sweet..
  Mar 3 Vianne Lior
Polar
There's a ghost in the machine
A distant heartbeat
An echo
A recollection of tides pulled by the rhythm
Of the moon
A lunar cycle
Of leaves swirled
And now settled
By the whisper
Of the breeze
A message repeated
But not audibly heard
Remembered and understood.
You are in the right place
Where you need to be
All you need now
Is to breathe and be.
Thank you everyone for the likes and comments, my poem being chosen as the Daily has made my day!! :0)
I went for a walk today
in search of poetry.

A little inspiration
in something I might see.

It wasn't a particularly beautiful day, 
Cloudy and a bit cold.

But from time to time 
the clouds would part, 
and wash the world in gold.

It wasn't quite mesmerizing 
still no poetry came to me.

So I decided to take a load off,
and parked myself beneath a tree.

I just sat there for a while, 
to see what I could see.

And what struck me most 
was that there was no one,
not a soul around but me.

Well, that's not exactly true.

There were a couple birds up in this tree,
but they were busy doing bird things,
not at all concerned with me.

And a squirrel up on a power line, 
also without a care,
as far as I could see.

And in that very moment 
a poem came to me.

But I did not write it down,
I just enjoyed my time under that tree.

I'll save the poem for later,
because I'm living the poetry.
The world is a big beautiful place if we take a moment to unplug,
unwind, and just allow our minds to take a break for a little while.
checkout the video for this on my you tube channel

www.youtube.com/@tsummerspoetry
Vianne Lior Mar 3
Lilac hush
earth, half-waking,
baroque birdsong.

Moss curls ,
dew beads on nettle’s tongue
small, glassy prayers.

wind
silk-handed seamstress
stitches light into every leaf,
veiling the world
breath and bloom.

Bones of old trees cradle the sun’s milk,
wildflowers nestle in their ribs
what dies here, lives softer.

river, translucent and slow,
spills silver veins , the skin of the valley
a quiet pulse beneath the green.

Somewhere between sky and soil,
we become the silence
lungs folding into pollen-laden air,
fingertips brushing the hem of forever.

Nothing belongs.
Nothing is apart.

In the meantime,
the world remakes itself
petal by petal, wing by wing
and we, fragile passengers,
are simply learning how to listen.

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