Your drafts are always better than your poems

And gently falls the bakula
Upon the grass I tread
Fragrant flowers
Like fallen stars from the sky
A hundred poems to be read.

As I drink my tea
Through the window I see -
The lantanas growing tall
Besides the creepers on the wall.
Orange orbs on stalks of green
A butterfly  - all tangerine -
Suckling blooms, fluttering by
Beneath a cloudless, placid sky.
Flowering trees - no longer ****
Full of colour and ripening fruits.
The world it seems is blossoming
With summer and her offerings.

For the most part of the day,
the weather's gloomy.
My bed-weather mood,
finally taken its toll.
In these tiny moments
of fragmented daydreaming,
my head and my heart
are clouded
by the very thoughts of you.

Suddenly, I am warm.
Suddenly, I am cozy.
Suddenly, I am at peace.
I behold this love from afar
although unspoken,
to have it in any other way,
I would never want.
Wait, is it love now?
Yes, it’s love now.
Yes, I can finally tell.

It’s not easy, you know
to love someone,
unknowingly. But duh,
love knows no bounds
neither any form of distance,
nor needs anything in return.
And I don’t need reciprocation.
It’s just how I feel,
at least while it lasts.
I’d like to keep it this way.

In this solace,
a bountiful of prayers
somewhere lies.
From my subconscious mind
to connect with yours, somehow.
I’d like to know:
how your day’s doing,
what are you thinking about,
what sort of things
made you happy today.

A prayer to get to know you,
to dive into your soul
and amaze myself
of what it’s like
to be ever present
right there,
in your world.
Because in my world?
Oh darling, you're there,
you always have been.

In a not-so-distant time,
any moment now, perhaps
we could finally have
our universe -
where there exists
two people
namely you and me,
side by side,
hand-in-hand,
as happy as we’ll ever be.
TOGETHER.

Some days are good
Or I think they really are
I soak up the sun
And reach for the stars
Some days are bad
I suppose they really are
The sun seems too hot
And the stars — too far.