Has anyone ever said
your name like sweet rolls?

The wanderers lips chapped thirsty
peeled and parched in deserts inhuman
of love bereft,sought hard but unfound!
a search on legs last,romance unfazed,
for that mirage shimmering hazily afar
of her eyes, face and lips softly smiling.
so dear once,long abandoned in betrayal.
a heartfull of love unrelinquished still,
throbbing unforgotten in existence skeletal
pausing for breaths last, a hoping soul numb,
now sighting that luscious red neon cherry
the glossy round O of Marylin the pretty
a wan smile just, of a small solace strange
lit up on a face entreating so desperate.
paving happily the deaths way at last
blown in the wind final,an abstract kiss.

We’re all just a part of this nonchalant game,
Plotting revenge, explosives, propane.
Pretending to love and have no shame
All the while, we’re going insane.

Walking in reverse, to the beat of their drum,
Never reaching anywhere, things left undone,
Pouring our hearts out , to those who use,
Becoming so prone, used to abuse.

Hoping for a time, with much more light,
Awaiting in the darkness, on this never-ending night.

I'm starting to like you
and it's all your fault.

Wakening with dawn
shimmering in brilliant hues
of crimson and gold


                               Silv'ry woodthrush flutes
                               and drowsy robins murmur
                               promising fresh hope


Opaque blackness fled
Vanished its dark heaviness
dissolving in light

**~Hilda~

The wandering minstrel,
sung a song that kept hidden,
deep in his lonely heart,
it touched the dancing girl so much,
she sprang up on her feet unprompted,
and danced the way the song spoke to her.

Oh! it was marvelous and she was swift
like a lightening during monsoon,
there was a subtle absence that heightened her presence,
her admirers, a whole lot, was caught by surprise,
strangely, they got agitated,
as her move was unexpected,
that stirred a hornet's nest
which, then  led to a melee of sorts,
every one was running helter- skelter,
while the whirlwind swirled around,
the girl still danced like possessed.

Only now they saw the Dervish,
with long white hair and flowing dress,
while he gently circled, his aura bright
created a dazzling circle of light.
It became difficult to see what happens,
to most, without the inner light.

**To the few with opened inner eyes
it was revealed at once thus:
the swirling dervish, the ecstatic dancer
and the wandering minstrel lost in  his song
went beyond,
became one in spirit.