You drank me in such style,
like a glass of vintage wine.
I could see your eyes acquiring
a special skill, at the moment
they set on me and then
your face attains a sheen.
I had the realization,all of a sudden
that this yen is no momentary affair.

See how years have flown!
As it  goes on aging, the wine
is becoming more sought after.

In the wondrous story book of night
                 I eagerly absorb and fall in to contemplation,
You were the one omnipresent,
                  across light years and flickering flames near.

As orbs of light in many intensities and hues,
                 the rays of infinite grace that envelop me,
what feel like the caresses of lotus petals
                 was your love,my eternal beloved.

Soft,frothing moon beams has been
               my true consolation at times of deep pain,
the swishing comet, my constant wonder
               takes me to you in my imagination.

I was an enquirer,eagerly searching
               for the meaning of my existence.
transforming from one to another
               formed by dust gifted by unknown stars.

Enshrined you are in the diamond
                 temple of my still mind,
making you my lover eternal,
                 I honored my yen for the sublime.

The story book of night tells,
                about spirited mornings,noon and dusk
your benign presence was in each step,
                 of the motions of galaxies.

I see your quick moving eye brows
                  in the tumult of the black rain clouds.
your intense eyes flash love in lightening
                when I feel starved of your love

In waves one after the other, your hands
               embrace me,I am reassured once more,
mountain wind from afar bring
                your songs, a  lonely nightingale sing.

I am a living monument, that breathes
           your love from elements to live on,
like millionaire,that's ready to sacrifice
             everything for the ecstasy of your presence.

There isn't any other lover who cares,
             like you who brings such grace to a beloved.
you've the very same eyes of my mother
             that wouldn't miss me wherever I am.

like her whenever I fall your hands
               seek me pulling up my mind
you are a presence constant
                  I haven't missed you ever anywhere.

In days I move within a dream
             having created it,you know where I am,
as I turn the pages of the story book of night,
             whenever I want to feel closer, you are there.

You've been the mirror reflecting my candor,
              you are more than anything I've ever yearned,
the river that carries me, that I am one with,
             a flow we are to the ocean of consciousness.

In the limitless, desolate desert,
facing inclement weather for long,
day and night I was searching for
"the diamond that will bring
deliverance once and for all"

That was what I was told
by the clairvoyant of the desert,
in his words mysterious,but I knew
what was the true meaning concealed.

I heard the anklets clanking behind,
but was busy churning the sand dunes
like wind,by the time I was awakened
by the music unmistakable,
I got only a glimpse of you coming

to meet me eagerly,but a fool I was,
an ostrich burying it's head deep in sand.
I've been going around the sea of sand,in vein
searching for that oasis, where you for me wait.

Mighty wind, for all your mysterious intents,
you seems to be many to me , not always so kind,
lover of fecund earth, you caress and kiss her often
brother of water and fire, you take them everywhere,
space and you are hand in hand, you are one and all!

The flowers you kiss, gently scoop the pollen away
put it in other blooms, that for long dreams fruits.
With the trees, women with unkempt matted tresses,
you play pranks,tangle them all together,in a moment.

Up you blow the fine red dust , on the winding hilly path,
conjure up psychedelic patterns, on the air out of misty dust.
You, like a dog rushing in to a flock of sheep, chase clouds
frightened they run helter- skelter, bleating thunderously aloud.

A playful kite, at your assault, shoot upwards like mad,
many in one you are, each different as you sashay forward,
and then, the passion ebbs, spirit dissipates, you seem kind,
satiated and quiet, tip-toeing like an alley cat, seeking a home.
Mighty wind, with a lasting bond with nature's elements
one with fire, water and earth, oh! how you sweep through spaces!

I would trust a word,
only when I could
go beyond it's
crusty outer shell,
fleshy girth, as well
and feel the heart
pulsating, making
red blood coursing
through the veins
speaking earnest truth
as heart beats,
what makes all words
other than this one
redundant, for that
moment in time,
stops my heart
with wonder,happiness
grief or ebullience
or many a other shades
when I intimately
knows that word.

A warrior of love, a perfect Amazon
you are well equipped for a war,
ready to take whatever it'd be to win,
beauty of such kind wages any war
only to conquer,the news has spread
that I am the one, you've set
your sight,so glad I am, for me!

Hypnotized by your painted dark eyes,
I am thirsty; instead of water, your lips
offer great solace, only disentangling
becomes a deed impossible at last!

Your armory is full,I could very well  feel
the moment you employ embraces as a part
of your tactics of overpowering and subjugation,
I guess you still have more moves hidden,kept ready
in case of a prolonged war of ****** masterfulness,
I gather, but why, yes why ,should I bother?

Take me by my hand and lead,show me which way
to move to please you most.
                                  To your bed,we'd retreat,
warriors of unrelenting amour, we'd take up
this beloved endeavor couched in  ardent desire,
we'll play the parts riding the horses of passion,
till dawn shows us the signs to retire for a time.

Lit up cleverly with a
romantic light
each morning
presents itself,so well,
as if it's a begining
with a winning streak.

Innocence, the mood
that prevails here, makes
it look anything is possible.
A witness, he  loses in his
stream of thought
looking at the children
playing with the speckled
pool of light seeping
through the leaves
of careless tall trees.

Comes noon spitting fire,
with his waves of heat
the legacy of an angry
scorching  sun, stuns
all the children by now
are hiding somewhere.

At the sedated hours
of sluggish after noon
the narration in yellow,
takes a different pace.
It's the designated
time zone for
the siesta to happen,
the evil hours of libertines too
to go gently knocking on the
doors of their concubines,
safely away from the snooping
eyes of wives who have
kept awake keeping
the brood together fighting
against the vagaries of
winds that make or
flatten sand dunes.

Few ones, among them
amidst contemplation after
furtive,  furious *******,
take counts over and over again
from all ends and see
karma's boomerang awaiting,
across the bend of time.
Repentance and the such
are the next,as sun goes down.

Evening has a tendency to let go,
tendency to say good bye, easily
against a hurriedly assembled
stage properties of evening sky.
It's a caricature of what the day did

In her black, hooded cloak
night advances,crying aloud:
"Don't delay any more, it's time
surrender to the army of occupation"