I want to sing you a ballad
As you choosily pick at your salad.
While at it wish you can hazard
A guess as to who’s mastered
The landscape and terrain
Of your voluptuous body with less mental strain
And painstaking care, noting every nook, cranny and vein
So it’s etched in the fabric of my brain.
The rose in my hand is wilting
I think it’s in supplication to the refreshing
Garden in your heart that’s bristling
With freshness and that’s not surprising.
As you enchant me with your spellbinding smile
Hope you can bob your head to my tune all the while.

The sun lightly caresses my face
And my eyelids flutter in glowing
Appreciation and admiration, heart stirs
Dreamily awake, reluctant to resume its
Exceedingly vital task, funny how it slackens
Sometimes when its primary task is a matter
Of life and death, literally.
My fingers make fleeting acquaintance with my
Temples, a quick rubbing to ease blood flow
To stave off a nagging headache.
Soon, every part of me is more
Accommodative of the notion of waking up
And by extension the happenings
Of the remainder of the day.

I like to stare listlessly
At the night sky for long
Durations of time, as if my
Gaze will compel the stars
To align to breathtaking ends.
Alas, they stay put,budge they
Don’t, a sneer streaks my
Face as my pride’s hurt.
And a tear droplet materializes
On the corner of my eye.
Maybe the moon prefers her
Star friends to remain as they’re.

Kindness is niceness perched
On the pedestal of goodness.
An ever burbling fountain of
Warmth, feeling and empathy
A white thorn less rose of purity
And good intention, rarer than
Hen’s teeth and it does scythe
Through the ice of insensitivity
With a precision that’s unmatched.