One red rose stays blushing in my garden
I caught a glimpse of it in the early dawn
On the carpet of green, as a lovely dame it does sway
Flashing hues of contrast on a dull monsoon day

A flower with petals of such delicate contours
Yet sheltered by sharp stinging thorns that pierce
Rain drops dripping off its soft ruddy face
As blood rushing from a wound’s open surface

Fairer far than anything, one can envision
Its petals, woven and spun by angels of heaven
Oh symbol of grace, you rock me in delight,
And in me a thousand poetic fancies ignite!

The blue sky, dotted with white clouds
The sun, in its last lap of race
The slanting rays gleam in crystal glow
Their beauty to the earth they bestow

As I stand and watch this lovely evening
I experience an inner glow of a deific kind
Elegant colors flow and fade
As the sun paints a paradise before me

The river lies arched like a lunar crescent
In my ears falls the sound of lapping waves
As she winds her course through verdant banks,
She speaks a language I can hardly understand

Without pause, she moves on relentless
Eager to join the ocean’s devouring embrace
Scripting the songs of her arduous journey
And chiming her anklets in soundless rhythm

There is a divine sweetness in the air
My exhalation blends with the cool wind
That whirs softly humming a mild tune
Birds get ready for their evening symphony

The twilight smiles and sends the sun away,
Obscuring manifold vistas near and far
Night quickly spreads its dark wings
It's time to make a move, homeward....!

When the pall of gloom overcasts my mind
And at cross roads bewildered as I stand
I tell myself
This shall pass

When my pain is more intense than I can bear
And no medicine seems potent to cure
I tell myself
This too shall pass

When my mind is full of fear
And I find no single soul to share
I tell myself
This too shall pass

When anxiety invades my inner abode
And there is no trace of comfort inside
I tell myself
This too shall pass

When storm clouds gather in the sky
And my tensions rise high
I tell myself
This too shall pass

When the road ahead stretches strenuous
And the distance makes me nervous
I tell myself
This too shall pass

As I lay pinned to the bed in pain
I got a newer insight of all those in deeper strain
My debilitating state gave me a lot of time to pray
And I earned the grace to overcome all my dismay

When the cycle of seasons keep changing
Life, from sorrows to joy will surely be shifting
Let us wait for the pendulum to have its full swing
And let our hopes heavenward steadily wing!

Serenity and sweetness will again fill the air
Doves of peace will coo in pair
The wintry chill will lose its frosty bite
Spring will come on wings like a sprite

‘‘Nevertheless, the hilltop hour
Would not be half so wonderful
Were there no dark valleys to traverse”
Helen Keller’s words now resonate in my ears

desire, a mongrel,
perpetually astray
licking everything,
thrown its way.
sometimes famished,
collapsing into a swoon!

Dear J----,

How many suns died,
out in the black margins
& burning headrooms
since we last shared
any words of importance?
I look out tonight from the roof
towards the endless upper branch
& swear a few have blinked away.

You strolled in so casually
from my dream, as if from the wood
or park, and common strokes
moved in the air between us.
Your words fork across
all your grassy miles,
as you tell me about the fox-scream;
I can almost see the starlings
hash across miniature cubes of lawn.

I live in silver -
the cars that flicker right to left,
the metro's metallic hide,
the strange inflorescent cloud
that garottes the coinish moon.
I'll lend it you on afternoons
when the rain deposits itself
in quiet blue discs across the city.

Go now, and know
that I am always grateful
for another friend, especially
when they understand
how hard a heart heaves
across all the bent years.

Yours,
Evan

This long life has been
informed by love.  We shared
each other Oh! for so
short a time.

Like fruit we hung onto
the sweet drops of new
nectar's night.
We peeled each other
to the pink skin of sighs.

It was a delicate scent
when blown into the
stars quiet Space.  We
sped into the walls of
destiny and crashed
in the pulp of sorrow.

But I miss you in this
orchard of dessicated
memories.

I am rawed by the thought
of you.

Caroline Shank

A gaunt green so full of song:
a lark bunting nests in the holly,

under a marmalade chariot
with Catherine-wheels:

I mean both senses of the word.
Self-lashes leave stripes thin as days.

O, how I move my hands for you,
from pen to wrack, choking away

the sobs, sometimes, because
your city is far from this city;

but other times I run my thumb
across your kitchen scrawl,

across your glassed-in face,
across the things you touched

when the dream was living.
The gaunt blue princess

holly quavers beyond
the trellised net, thronged

with twig now: a little bird
caches its frail life away

from a cat o' nine tails sun
that is whipping & whipping.