wind of summer
too vagabond
drunk
touching the melancholy afternoon
of the last pale season

flowing over the
deep yellow barren field
echoing the last mystic sound
though yet romantic
spring
the purples are deep
divine

butterflies are flying around
a few birds playing
on the ground
suddenly singing
uttering love

yellow
the golden yellow floating
in the eyes  
over hued
saturated

dropping on the ignored
dry
wither leaves
as the rain drops that has made
a blue
day dream

crossing over the mind  
a jingle
leap singing
classic
the very lost spring
scrolling into
soul

even in the lonely dark night
rolling up
the sound
as the rolling stone
of the sounding sea

@Musfiq us shaleheen

Don't approach a dog unknown to you
Holding out your hand, making eye contact
You may frighten him
Let him come to you

Don't write a poem uninspired
It won't work out
In good time
Let it come to you

Don't go out there seeking love
Like a child with a butterfly net
Live your life
Let it come to you

Lost in his thoughts, a fearful boy he was,
Couldn't perform well because he said so depressed he was,
When they asked him about his fear,
He told them,he would soon be dead
as life doesn't seem to be fair,
No purpose of life there was for him,
He believed he wouldn't be good enough ,
and his insecurity was so firm,
Then one day he realized the purpose of his existence,
He met someone who cheated him ,
but gave him a reason to think in a new direction,
And then and there, he finally found a reason to live,
A reason to love life, a beautiful gift

Some days have passed and I am left with a few
Torn pieces of my life can not be sewed
Those gone far away from us have come to know
Life is too short,don't waste it to show
Closing my eyes and listening to the rhythms my heart makes
How fast the time passes, it can't be chased
Lost still I am and my fellow beings
But they only realize,when their back leans

1723

High from the earth I heard a bird,
He trod upon the trees
As he esteemed them trifles,
And then he spied a breeze,
And situated softly
Upon a pile of wind
Which in a perturbation
Nature had left behind.
A joyous going fellow
I gathered from his talk
Which both of benediction
And badinage partook.
Without apparent burden
I subsequently learned
He was the faithful father
Of a dependent brood.
And this untoward transport
His remedy for care.
A contrast to our respites.
How different we are!

The way eagle glides in the air
Plays with the sky so gracefully
No matter if it rains or not
Flying high is it's only thought
Sparrows chirping, singing songs
All the things that I can long
So lucky they are as they have
Freedom to fly, they never hesitate
The shine of earth just before the dawn
The magic of  sky before the dusk
And when it rains drop by drop
In the garden tiny insects hop
All of these blessings they see
Glory of nature that makes one glee
I wish I could fly with those flocks
Instead of walking on these rocks

Bombs and guns are just toys,
The signs of bravery for boys
Immature brains with violence fed to them,
Make them all completely numb
But what about the country men?
You see them crying now and then
Does that make you immune to violence?
Well, that just describes your height of ignorance.

The room is silent
My bed is empty
Eyes of violet
Haunt my memory

My heart is beating
It skips one or two
Moonlight bleeding
Onto images of you

The past is nearly present
The future seems so far
Her perfume is a presence
Her eyes are distant stars