As dark clouds thunder on a grey day,
Resounding across the arid plains,
I hear the loud cries of a bird,
It cuts across the rhythmic drumming of the clouds,
He's quiet for a moment, then I hear him again.

Through the trees I see him,
Royal, an electrifying metallic  blue,
A peacock, stunning, strutting,
Fanning his train of feathers,
Eyespots of majesty, stroked with mossy hues.

He dances in a flamboyant display,
In spot light, as lightening flames the sky above,
Nonchalant, a blue crested head turns with pride,
His ornate train, shimmering, beckoning, to and fro,
His moves, a courtship ritual of love.

His iridescent trail woos in style,
A life of its own in its opaline shades
Golden, blue, brown and green,
Colors of the earth, gloriously resplendent,
A gathered spectacle in  his plumage.

As drops of rain touch the earth,
He is still high on the wings of romance,
His feet in motion,
His feathers spread for his mate,
Quivering, glimmering a love dance.

He doesn't know
that he is my harbour after a stormy day
A haven
where I let my thoughts drift and dreams rest
That he is my rain, sunshine
and rainbow at different times  
And the muse behind my songs and rhymes
He doesn't know
that he is the reason behind the smile in my eyes
And why I sing and curl my toes
He doesn't know
that he sets my pulse racing
And I suppose he will never know.

In the musings of the dark Koel
That perches upon the winding bough
The sun that flushes from the east
Upon the earth's curving brow
In leaves that bend across to brush
The fruit of life that time bears,
The carnation's awakened blush
In the unseen breath of morning air
In swirls of clouds that float across
A placid sky of limpid blue
The ripples on the lake embossed
With dancing drops of sunlit dew
I know His chants, sense His thoughts
I hear hymns of divinity
I see His hand, I feel His touch
Midst echoes of eternity

'Tis not always spelled in letters,
'Tis not always said in words,
'Tis not always sung in notes,
Loud enough to be heard.
'Tis not always writ in sands,
Nor frosted window panes,
'Nor engraved on precious stones,
Ornate jeweled chains.
'Tis not always spilled on paper,
Nor carved on barks of trees,
The language of love,
'Tis more than words can be.
It might ne'er be understood,
Or perhaps deftly read,
For much of what is love,  
May pass away unsaid.
But 'tis there in tenderness,
Longing wistful eyes,
A heart that lights up,
Every moment love comes by.
'Tis there in a gentle hold,
A shoulder kind enough,
Caring thoughts that sail you through,
Choppy seas, weathers rough.
'Tis coloring you a happy pink,
When the world grey's a blue,
Love is more than words can say,
Love is more than 'I love you'.

Don't judge me by my looks
And don't read me by the books
I am brash and I am kind
I am hard to define
I am bold. I am shy
I am grounded, but I fly
I love, and I give
I cradle, I forgive
Though soft I may feel
I am thunder, I am steel
I am smiles and I am laughter
I am happily ever after
I am tears and I am ache
I am a mess when I break
I hold tightly, but I know
When it's time to let go
I am dove, I am hawk
I am the rose and the rock
I am rain. I am sun
I am I. I am woman



Thank you all so much **

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.

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.