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her smile burst like bubble gum
her cheeks smell as queen of the night
her face glow like the morning sun
o my sweet child, you entwined me like Jasmine

Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~

Where the river abandons herself to the creek
and the mudbank is cratered with crabclaws
waits the old man.

He doesn't know his years
but his ears are a sonic gift
catching the tonal variations of tides
seemingly for eons
evolving with the mangrove map
into a flawless tracker
of how far the moon would recline
for ***** to be holed out
and what shoreline the water would touch
before the shrimps starlight driven
make a beeline for the net.

I encountered him once
in the absurdity of a time
when I was high
and he lowly crouching
was making art by the creek.

Who was the poet
I could never tell.

(To Eleonora Duse)

We are anhungered after solitude,
Deep stillness pure of any speech or sound,
Soft quiet hovering over pools profound,
The silences that on the desert brood,
Above a windless hush of empty seas,
The broad unfurling banners of the dawn,
A faery forest where there sleeps a Faun;
Our souls are fain of solitudes like these.
O woman who divined our weariness,
And set the crown of silence on your art,
From what undreamed-of depth within your heart
Have you sent forth the hush that makes us free
To hear an instant, high above earth’s stress,
The silent music of infinity?

In the pull of the wind I stand, lonely,
On the deck of a ship, rising, falling,
Wild night around me, wild water under me,
Whipped by the storm, screaming and calling.

Earth is hostile and the sea hostile,
Why do I look for a place to rest?
I must fight always and die fighting
With fear an unhealing wound in my breast.

She's planting out her window box
Young shoots are showing through
She thinks about the Springtime
And the garden she once knew

There were primroses and daffodils
Sweet violets white and blue
She thinks about her husband
And when their love was new

Buds and blooms open up
They scent and colour Summer long
She thinks about those happy days
When they were young and strong

Sunset's falling sooner now
Petals drop, the show is done
She gathers up her Winter shawl
Prepares for what’s to come

Come an read my verdant mountains
the place Champlain
he named Verd Mont
where eons an eons
of ancestors,
beautifully now
how they still haunt,

Where the ever-greens
that stretch so tall
now blend in with the maple
where come here in the springtime flow the gold it is a staple,

My feet have roamed this earth so long
I know it in my heart
every road I travel down
I know from where I start,

My roots run deep here in these hills,
deeper than those trees can reach,
an deeper than their roots can go,
an I have much I've yet to teach,

About a life of perseverance
holding strong -to make your way,
you can do most anything,
just hear the words I always say,

We are stronger than we think,
we are a deep and endless well,
some where to find
to draw that strength,
to break the ugly haunting spell,
to find the bootstraps
hey i say now don't you dwell,

an I have many roads to go
and stories yet I know to tell,

Come in words -
to Vermont too,
to know this peace I know,
where mountains flow with aquifer,
as crystal waters ever flow,

Find a place where deer can run
and your heart can run there too,
where the sun so brightly shines,
and the skies are
always lovely ever- blue

Put your feet down somewhere nice
in mossy place or earthly loam
take a rest from where you walk,
in waters running,
mountain foam,

Wash your soul an spirit clean,
allow the sky above to share,
an listen to the fragrant breeze,
to how much so-
the leaves they care,

We are one as people here,
all things we are the snowflake- same,
appreciate the rare an "weird"
to not is such an awful shame,

Worn-out dogmas
an inconvenient truths,
to leave behind those old illusions

Learn to embrace your life again,
because without some wrong delusions,

We would never see as we do now-
as all good bad an indifferent things
serve a purpose -
go see
go an be.

Ma Cherie © 2017