Window opens to salubrious breeze
Tucked away at, waiting to be hailed
Just to get in and cool the mind
That is boiling like water in a container
That has been since long, and in such times
Even a single minute is a summer noon.
This is what mankind has failed to decipher
And to get a find better injection or capsule
At the right moment so that the life
That was marooned can be on sail again.
As the wind was fresh I switched on my cell
And mother was smiling to know in a lucid way
I was normal and back on delayed duites.

If we had
No smile
What would
Happened
With our faces?
Would they
Have looked
The base
Of a fry pan,
The head
Of a buffalo
Or the face
Of champeze
The bark of
The oldest oak
The panda
Looking from
The branches
It is nothing
Like that.
God be thanked.
It is the skin
Of a zebra,
The cheeks
Of a dandelion,

The silver
In the azure
The sparkle
Of the day
And everything
That is splendid.....

In the cameo of twilight
I embrace the chair
And sit near the window
And the bench sparkles
That gave me light
Though she was gone
Like a meteor in the mist.
I remember when the bench
Was an altar and we would
Sacrifice the hours
To get contenment
And it was there
Spilling over
And flowing down the hands.
I remember the bench
The concert of my song
On her lips and
The parrots trying
To surpass hers
From the swinging cradle
Over our cool heads.
I remember the bench
Where we had discussed
The life that is just prose
And the croaking in the pond
And finally we had made up
Our minds to weave our moments
Like the strings in a guitar.
The bench I remember
Is the souvenir to my soul.
It is the beginning of Endymion.

Poem
Is
A
Half fried chicken....
When it is right time it is fried again.
Then it is finished.

Idiom
Does
The
Work of salt in a dish of sentence

Idiom is beautiful topaz
Shining in a rosary of words...........

My first collection of poems published...
Available on Flipkart Amazon.....

Humble request to buy the book
Write review.......

Book name...

Violets and butterflies
By Mohammad Arshad

To sit on the couch
And lie on the mud
Is the difference
That special day
Brings closer
Each time
Presents
Flow in
And
Relationship
Will get thinner
And I know
One day
That will tear away
And I will be left alone
To feel the weeds
On my chest
And this is
What this day
Reminds me...........

Beauty
Controls the complete man....

Plant a new tree for fruits
And then you are special

Hate
Is not a hat

Haiku
Is
a wide
landscape
Through telescope