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Nishu Mathur Jul 2017
At the end of the day, I await the night
As it slowly sets in
With a prelude of colours.
It grows quieter and peaceful
Birds cease to sing
And fly home to rest their wings
On long limbed trees that weather time.
Noise ebbs, save for the throaty croak of frogs
Or the mating songs of cicadas.
The sky is lit with silver lamps
While the moon looks on
Smiling with cherubic cheeks
As the blanket of darkness
Tucks the world in
Ushering a world of dreams.
Nishu Mathur Jun 2017
How well she grows - the perfect rose
A delicate bloom in pink
Little by little, her petals unfold
And blend in poetic ink.
Tall and stately; she is a regal bloom
She reigns and flaunts her style
How she charms prying eyes
And disarms with her scented smile
Though time will turn the tide one day
And she'll wilt, and cease to be
But long will she be remembered
And loved in poetry.
Nishu Mathur Jun 2017
I stand on the shore, my feet sinking in the sands
My hair tousled wild in winds hustling hands
Covering my face, veiling my eyes
Distantly, I hear the seagulls, their yearning cries.
I grip firmer and hold myself tight
In dusk's diminishing, dwindling twilight.

I watch the waves lunge at me -
Overwhelming, menacingly.
But as they race to the shore, reaching my feet
They drench me, turn back and then recede.

I see another wave, I yearn to move a step behind
Fear and uncertainty fill my troubled mind.
But I still stand, stand my ground,
Unmindful of the sounds
Of the winds and the waves
In a trance, lost, nature's slave.

I nearly fall, my balance lost
Taken by surprise, by waves tossed
But I still stand, stand with unsteady feet
Where the land and waters meet.

I, on the seashore, a speck, besides a sea so vast -
I know that each wave will rest and it too shall pass.
Nishu Mathur Jun 2017
There is nothing like, for a thirsty voice, water clear and sweet,
A loaf of bread for a hungry man and his misery would retreat.
There is nothing like, for tired eyes, a night of gentle sleep,
Nothing like, for a weary body, the comfort of slumber deep.
There is nothing more stirring than a new born's hushed cries,
And nothing more heart warming than a twinkle in tiny eyes.
There is nothing like, for a tearful child, his mothers warm hold,
Or the wisdom of generations through his father told.

There is nothing like, for an unsteady heart, the call of a friend,
No aching heart that a friends love can not heal or mend.
There is nothing like, for a bruised soul, the calm of gentle words,
The miracle of a kind voice in deep recesses heard.
There is nothing like, for a battered heart, the comfort of a smile,
The promise of a tomorrow, though it may take a while.
There is nothing like, for a broken spirit, the touch of a helping hand
Gestures never washed away... eternal footprints in the sand.
Nishu Mathur Jun 2017
In the evening sky
he hung in celestial glory
I thought he came early

As the blue paled
he became brighter

Luminous, white and bold
I loved him dearly
I held him in my hands and heart
cupped his fullness
in my eyes

He moved with me
I watched captivated

I stood in his golden light
and beauty
soaking in silver slivers
into my soul from my skin

Now he lives in me
and I in him
Nishu Mathur Jun 2017
The sky oft becomes dark and thunders
there are clouds as grey as can be
but behind those clouds waits the sun
quietly and patiently

of course it will rain and pour
clouds will rumble, clash  and roar
but they will not forever last
those dark clouds will come to pass

these clouds are not just rimmed in silver
look up close, with hope behold
for those black threatening clouds
are lined with the brightest gold
Nishu Mathur Jun 2017
There are times I know not who I be
A stranger, unreasonable I  become,
Little sense in the world around I see.
'Tween love and hate on a pendulum.

There are times I turn away from you,
Question your love, your wise decree,
Eyes wide shut to whatever you do,
Believing  you too have forsaken me.

There are times I doubt, if at all ,you exist,
My heart to darkness a welcome home
Your presence denied, you,  I resist,
Hope burns in doubt's infernal dome.

Love me when I least deserve........when to despair, a host

Hold me God, for it is then ...that I need your love the most.
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