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Her house isn't somewhere I look forward to visiting
The streets are broken in places with garbage all around
It stinks, right to the almighty heavens, I think
And if it wasn't for her
I would have avoided
Going there
Altogether
But
That is where she lived
And that is why
It became my favourite place
In the entire world

In the entire world
My awkward steps
Beat a tattoo of regret
In my shrinking heart
The birds flew away from their nests

Their silent songs enveloping their abrupt farewell

Like an abandoned child, those lifeless straws

Soak the tears of the empathising sunset
Pink lip tint smeared on the cheeks
Sweet closeness beneath those cosmetic colours surface
Bringing forth the melody of spring
Rimmed with silver on the edges

Deceiving lies and unfulfilled desires

The shape of a teardrop
Falling into a rabbit hole
Plunging headlong into a colourful wonderful
The ecstasy of forgetting reality
Of splendid thrones of gold  
or treasures manifold  
  
Of jewelled caskets  
or lavish banquets  
  
Of Emirs and rajahs  
Of Sultan and Shahs  
  
Of kings and queens  
Of rulers and emperors  
  
Of sparkling crowns  
or flowing gowns  
  
Of their subservient stewards and obedient pages  
Of their stalwart squires and servile knaves  
  
Of poor humble, docile minions  
who tended to regal pavilions  
And obeisantly carried royal palanquins  
Oh and some were real life harlequins  
  
Of castles and palaces  
of abounding gold and silver  
in ostentatious regal splendour  
  
The sidelined fanning maids in waiting  
Yet to me only one thing worth noticing  
The minstrels who came to sing  
from afar for the queen and king  
  
For I'd rather be a poetess for kings  
so to my tunes swayed a kingdom  
than I be the king of mere subjects  
and be filled with regal boredom!  
  
So I could join ranks of  
troubadours  
and sing for the king  
some folklores.
Since the site has no picture feature for each poem I think I will post the poems pic on my cover photo, so the cover photo will represent my latest poem. Take care all and best wishes to site owners.
Pestered and pursued
by unknown foes
A topsyturvy land
where snakes can have horns
and cows can have fangs.
Night'mares' where the day's stallions
make mountains out of molehills

A chance to witness greek mythology-like creatures for real
For dreamland tis a place for the unreal and surreal.

Those hair-raising scary scary dreams
beset with horrified silent screams!

We do try to interrupt nightmares, pinching ourselves
With relief wake up to see there aren't any horrid elves.
We also try to interpret dreams filled with mystery
But gifted dream interpreters like prophet Joseph
Are now part of biblical human history

All in all, dreamland's fascination
for extra-ordinary exaggeration
and tall-tale imagination

Where myth and legend come to life
An amalgam of fiction or real strife

Where assorted monsters of the mind
reign supreme in that REM sleep of our kind.

Yet on the other hand the wishful, wistful sweet sweet dreams
where fantasies form mirages bordered by fanciful seams.

Where castles in the air that humans build, float gently down to earth
only to shoot back up unto nowhere from the awakened one's berth.

In dreamland a pauper girl can be a princess or fairy fair
for daydreams extend into the night and linger on there.

A quote I took to heart and it to console all and sundry
'that if your sweet dreams don't come true, don't you fret
for atleast your nightmares didn't come true either,
so just heave a sigh, by and by.

Every night let us all just fly away and escape
And lo behold  the extraordinary world of Dreamscape
My profile homepage pic represents my newest poem.
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