I've snuggled in your embrace,
Smuggled and sneaked in
On you on tiptoe
(On the tip of a bubble)
Kissed you a million times,
Cringed with shyness,
Pretended to scoff at you
To break into laughter
And clasp my hands with yours.
Bumped into you
At some street, on some staircase,
Letting you spiral down a step further
Into my soul's merkaba.

I have sketched you in fervent hues
I have penned you in vivacious blues
I have perused you numerous times
In my pursuit of you.
Fondled you after fumbling for you
In my dog-eared memories
Of my portrait of you
On a blank wall of my reality.

I've often visualised you
Lurking around the corner of a street,
On another day, in a library maybe,
As I gleefully offer my mind for you to read
In lieu of the book that we picked
At the same instance.

At times I let these scenes
Play on a little longer in my head,
(None of it ever happened anyway)
Till the juncture when you walk up to me
(in those scenes)
While I
Freeze the moment then and there,
When you're probably just about to utter
Something I may have been longing to hear.
To then move to a distance
And admire that still frame I'd set,
Picturing a dewy winter morning
On a summer evening.
Till the sounds, sights and smells disperse

Till we part ways like always,
Without having met, yet!
To meet again in an unfamiliar setting
Against the backdrop of familiar feelings
Born anew
In the thrill of anticipation (of)
The certainty of uncertainties.

Trust me my dear,
Your visage will fail
To do justice to my portrait of you.
Let us meet  and be lost
In my mind's tangled sketches alone.

Bacchus begone,
I will never taste a wine
As potent or as sweet as those soft, pink, dew-kissed lips.
There is no grape as round or luscious
As her dimpled, yielding globes,
And when she dances, I die
a sweet death, and beg with every breath
To have her in my mouth again,
To sip her honeyed juices,
As she writhes upon my tongue.

My father's mother
Danced through life with passion and flair
Determined and stubborn, courageous and outrageous
I wish for you her individuality and sense of drama.

My father's father
Had a sense of mischief that bordered on cunning
Quick thinking, generous, the life and soul of the party
I wish for you his love of life, of family, his tricksy spirit.

My mother's father
Sent his grandchildren to sleep with their heads full of glorious nonsense, absurd, fantastical tales
He had a smile for the whole world, and shone from within with a golden light.
I wish for you this shining quality, his kindness, creativity and loving heart.

My mother's mother
Is the strongest of all the strong women I know,
Straight speaking, no-nonsense, a clear head in a sea of chaos
I wish for you her strength, her calm, her ability to see things as they really are.

I wish for you
My mother's tolerance and sense of fun, my father's thirst for knowledge
Your fathers' fathers quiet comforting presence
Your father's mother's empathy and warmth.

Those that are gone, their memories persist and will be passed down
You will be all of us, and all of them, and yet, always, uniquely you.