I thought I would write of love, love
But I faced a wall, a block
My quill stood still in time
While the clock went on tick tock
I thought I would write of passion
That makes one spin on toes
But my quill stayed quiet, still
It wouldn't spill or flow
I thought I would write of romance
With all the right beats in the groove
But my quill stopped mid air
It didn't want to write or move
So I lay my quill aside
And gave poetry a miss
I left the paper empty, love
And sealed it with a kiss

I coloured my world today
my hands smeared in pastels
canary yellows
ripe peaches and cardinal ochres
pink from a flamingo sunrise
a passionate cerise

Splashed
an array of feisty blues
a flamboyant turquoise
a topaz tango
a twinkling periwinkle

Streaked it with
beams of gold
contoured lilac smudges
lavender tipped edges
in custard pineapple floats

Splattered emeralds, toned pistachio
fern greens with swift finger strokes.

Tempered it with
muddy crusty earthy browns
rock coloured sandy mounds
reined in royal purple
the sensual blaze of a flaming sunset
the dark indigo of a gloaming sky
agate drops a few
a silver sliver of a crescent new

I coloured my world
with my eyes
my fingers, my hands
my hues
....just the way I wanted to

Beneath the gulmohar tree
In flamboyant love
A tale of our desires
Coloring each other
A bright vermillion
Under his crimson spread
Shaded in blissful haven.

Reaching for his branches
Clasping, holding
Climbing, swinging
Chasing, laughing
Under a bright shower of scarlet petals
Of hearts and heat, of love and life
Blooms of a scorching Indian summer.

In flames, his vibrant burning crown
His canopy, flaunting festive tangerine blossoms
Crinkled teasing petals
One upright
Of quaint innocence in white
Splashed with  feisty passion's red
Celebrating and anticipating
In celebration of us, our love
Anticipating rain..
As his branches reach high for promising dark clouds.

Serenading with the music of the monsoons
Moist leaves of the gulmohar glisten
With wind and water, in gentle rhythm
Raindrops nestle for a moment
Before sliding, slipping
On damp, satiated earth
Strewn bright with scattered orange petals
Of the gulmohar
Drenched and soaked like us.

We can all do with a hug some days -
Some kind words

And the presence of someone who believes in you
Who will never let you down
Who doesn't make you feel insignificant and small
Who appreciates and doesn't condemn
Who won't pull you low
But helps you get up
Who can flip a frown to a smile
Add a little glow
And turn tears to a tickle
Someone who can bring a spring in the step
And a twinkle in the eye
We can all do with love -
When the chips go down
Or even when the wheels are up

We can all do with a hug somedays
So here's one for you.

Think of me at dusk when stars
Cast the world in the light of night
When trees are washed in Selene's milk
And dreams are born in cream and white
Think of me when the morn rises
To the hum of feathers in a choir
When the sky's ablaze with scarlet shades
As dawn rides her chariot of fire

Think of me in waves of water
That arch to touch the golden grains
In woodlands sylvan, calm and quiet
Or in the music of the rain
Think of me in glens and meadows
Along silver streams and brooks that sprint
In gardens of lavender blue
And orchards tinged with fuchsia pink

So think of me, my love, think
Think of my love - so true
One day hoping you might love
Just the way that I love you

A garden of marigolds....orange, yellow and rust,
Bright, soft and rich, touched with golden dust.

Quiet and regal, sun kissed and fair,
Basil -citrus fragrance that mellows the moist air.

A thousand smiling marigolds, a thousand smiling suns,
Sweet nectar, ambrosia, for natures gentle ones.

Woven into garlands, yellow with tips  of red,
Woven into memories with many a words unsaid.

Love's hopes of an Indian  bride, clad in marigold,
With dreams wrought,  promises that two hearts dearly hold.

Tearful farewell to soldiers who traverse through destiny's doors,
A garland weaved with love for  those from across the seven shores.

And when the being is but a thought, as life grays and  olds,
Wrapped in a hearse of love, their love, with weeping marigolds.

An offering so humble yet flowers that Gods wear,
An offering with love,  with a souls quiet prayers.

Orange, yellow, rust..to love, to pray, to mourn,
Golden, sun kissed, blessed.. marigolds that life adorn.