Rays of light reach the high watermark,
The sun lovely bathes in the morning dew,
On a rose cradled within someone's thumb,
And in a tear streaming from someone's eyes!"

I looked straight
into the mirror.
Do I have nothing to hide,
or is there something hidden now?
I can't see my open mind.

Little chip
bottomless dip
but is it?

Does nature has
a hole or a slit?

Tap in logic
it's ******!

For instance dig in
mathematically instill
a finer silicon chip
but where is the slit?
It springs
digital and now AI magic.

I am in the blink
of your eyes,
Not in the mirror!

I replied, "I wish
I never do that,
Looking in your mirror!"

Once again, she said,
"Never mind,
Mind your eyes,
For a mind
Never shows in the mirror."

So beautiful
now can't touch
no more.

Maybe just maybe
after the clouds
spread their black throw
up to the horizon.

And the deep singing sea
beneath it showers down
upon the beautiful rose.

The scene is all a bright show
yet mystified even more.
The finishing line is drawn
in a ring of rainbow.

You may be strolling
along a muddy path
yet the birds sing
atop the Eden's tower
deep down you're a wonder!

When I pick up my pen
        She comes first.
When I land on the dust
         I am a stranger!

Summer is loading full
             just one bit more
                     London is On!

Busy bus only 20 miles
           per hour
      tube  it
take the underground!

Meet down the various clouds
               though the sun oft
     picks on the gray paintbrush
the bumble bees fly on bright path
       daffodils are yellow
                   eyes are black and white.

The colour plate is full
                     down the cloud
                          go by underground!

Just the least
      just a pinch
               is magic
stirs the seven seas!

Your pretty little
          beauty spot
            is big indeed!
Piques the waxing moon
            revealing new skin.
Ah therein the day
           at the end of the day
dips into the depth of the blue
            never sleeps
roams in starry dreams!

Neither Earth or sky
               is deep or high.
The first light drops
                upon the rose.
The secret is secret no more
              sings the nightingale
interpreting the dream
          down the whole lit up sky
yet a twilight comes on the way.

Just a glance of you
wraps the entire show away,
towards depths so profound
and heights so high
yet unseen by any eye!

Today is my birthday
my family enjoys a matter of joy.
For this day my mother added
one more new boost
in the fold of time
or one more leaf falls
at the end in the autumn
or indeed on more nightingale
it’s for time to unfold!

I for one a date of birth
still not in the know
makes me pondering
when my mind was born!

If only it were
like a strand of your hair,
like a glimpse of you
in your mirror!

Just like a one perfect sway
into the all-encompassing curve
of the ever-smooth, perfect circle
captures the ultimate decimal of pi!

Never shows the hand
but gives a rose.
Leaves up to you
with your views
with your thoughts!

To live, one must die,
love takes a giving heart
a never fading Taj Mahal
an art of a beautiful mind!

The moon amidst
the celebrations of stars
still in its proverbial stance
only the eye no fingers!

If there ever a moment of flower
let it be today the rose
in the tips of the fingers!

Pure beauty
Atop hills of thorns
A rose
Full stop.

O God
this living minute
is enough to thank
it's a present
not death!

A small world
full of human.
Yet it's a big one
full of victims
of loneliness.

As big as heaven
              size ways.
But to preserve
      it took no space
did it in a few words.
          So tiny that was
didn't notice how or where                      
       I lost my password
now the giant heaven
       I can't see nowhere!

Painted it in the deep
dark night.
Still, it's the moon
of zillions of stars!

The side the flipside
and the bridge.
The day the night
and the bond
the humbly wane
half-moon!

Maybe just maybe
that a split-second mo
is far no more.

Finally, the moon into the sea
takes the jump for sure
only to see abyss water is no more.

Capturing the moments of stories
woven in billows and waves
all a jiffy in a split second is gone
but a drop of tear at the bottom.

A man maybe
a giant.
Maybe a joy
or pain.
Truth is
a tear!

Love
is only logic
in love.

Then the arch painter,
up in the blue yonder,
stirs the sea of colours,
and posing in style,
infuses the magic with
tangerine daylight.

Then I don't know
if you were walking
by a brook or a river,
you would tune in,
perhaps like the sweet singer,
Hebrew King David,
the water nymph hums a melody.

Then the narrative resonates,
it never just goes away like the wind.
Birds chirp and sing
in the groves and on every street.

Then I was watching the BBC
on a black and white screen,
the beloved monarch had passed away,
and Britain was mourning.

Then she appeared
once in a stolen exhibition
by my poetry in motion
and jolly happy she was admiring
now she's gone I just dreamed.

Then amidst the melancholy,
I heard twittering birds chirping,
missing the mellifluous melodies,
so awesomely sweet,
alas, Queen Elizabeth wasn't there
to speak her English!

Crack some fire
everywhere
on the way heaven.
Light the shadow
light a candle
down the moon.

The sun in fact
does it every day.
Scurries towards
the last dark room
down the moon.

With the colour plate
intact and full
passes by shining on
every corner and nook
every untouched end in the day
the rainbows peep on the way.

Sneaks its way through
the deep forests of orbs
up and down the passages
in the mountains of stars
even after nightingales
and robins go deep silent
the sun tiptoes on the go
lights a candle on the moon.

Moments after the sunset
facing its true north in the West
only to find in heaven
the way The Queen of Heaven
puts her footprint less step
it's the sun's true West
shows up the new crescent.

Who said that
watch the moon
but can't touch?

Truly a full moon picture
broke the mirror.
Stacking all of it
the sky fills the full jar.
Empties it though
sparing a piece
to every shining star.

Yet a full moon Kohinoor
eyes on all the stars
no one can touch!

A drop of snow on the face of the sun
a stone throw from the rainbow
fondly close over the tulip colour stroke
next to the Snow White's looking mirror?

What a sniff it gotten on the way?
Turquoise butterfly is on the fly
up on the top floor is lapis lazuli sky.
Did it not only deduce the hunger pang
time is on the run took the breath away
even forgot the death maybe an inch away!

Will the star
show up on my way?
Take a shot in the dark
I can't promise
to the firefly.

The moon will
morph to the sea
in the dark
swing and sway.

The robin doesn't need
to sing to the tuberose
that doesn't delay
blossoms on the way!

Don't be upset
with the rose
thorns are meant
to be close!

Keeping a bit private
after the night
the sun goes all out.
Over the painted rose
and through the shady clouds.

East west north and south
at the end of the day always returns
the twilight could never forget  
a lurking little mole
the sun's missing beauty spot!

The ambling twilight goes deep
it isn't all black
a full moon shines on her brow
neither the night is pitch dark
down the mountains of floating stars.

Tomorrow again yet in the broad daylight
the sun will tuck into a throw of twilight
something is still private a black mole in the light.

A glance in the mirror
one step closer to the rose
On the face of the sun
a drop of snow.
Under the same cloud
sings a nightingale.
Close to you
not far at all
sea wide from the sky
blue lotus-fall!

When the paintbrush of the day
is tucked away
and the sunset dipped
in the forest of the night
the moon wanes and waxes
down the hills of stars  
atop that shady wrap.

Who peeps in
where the sleeping beauty wakes
is any one guess
nor it's a amateur's business.

Far from the half lit astral canopy
any bucket lowered  
deep down on the ground
into a barrowed well of colours
comes up with a Joseph of Cannon
the firesome story goes on.
The same fire burner
is also the same fire extinguisher
Alexander the Great intrigued life water
cool serene cup of Ab-e Hayat elixir!

A paintbrush on fire
it isn't yet done.

Paints in broad daylights
in cool cloudy darks
often relaxes down the line
when the rain pours down
and the flute is on play
it isn't yet done.

The sea at the clement eve
strives to splash over
this rainbow-kissed brush
the moon will thaw the billow
with moonlight
before the waking
sleeping beauty's eyes
and the night will pour over it,
it's full bowl eternally pitch black
only to see lighting up
zillions of stars
on the paintbrush
it isn't yet done!

Apparently that looks only kohl
the night eyes in within a colour
eternally weighed down
out of sight mass hues
looking to visualise a scoop
paints yet one more first light.
Full of colours the paintbrush
it isn’t yet done!

Rolling out from blue lotus
off the sky
nymphs in tangerine bright
all colours
tuck into disappearing
rainbow slides.
Ah, fragrance
of the broad daylight
a day in summery August
is still heady
weaving blue butterflies!

A drop of beauty spot
a black mole
or a cool shady sketch
on the golden brow
of a sunny day.
The evening is always
welcome at the end.

The night from off site
pops on her way
however pitch dark
weaving even more black
across that kohl-pollen
embroidery
a sky full of stars
will keep an open eye!

The wee hours late night
in a blink of an eye
blows her Niqab (veil) away.
Oh, that folds springs in style
in the chalice of rose flower
never gone with the rainbow
splash of the first light!

Stunned broad daylight
rather looses for words
punting in sleek brook of twilight
scurries back into the night.

Just inches below the ground
but must be behind the sight
sow the seed for a tree in return.

Deepening down the bottom of the sea
nor lying on the ground dropping off the sky
merely dipping into some foots long body  
the soul springs a life.

Take it on the run then should the sky
or earth bends giving a flatten lid.
Even then can it prevent
the soul when rebounds with a life indeed?

An inside scoop, a math, never surfaces
neither in sky nor on Earth, a measured deep,  
always behind the eyes but life maker indeed.

Don't be late
dip your toes fast.

It's up to you
if you want to do it
at the same time
when the day too
melts down into
one more pith dark
finishing line.

The twilight has a
lot to digest then
as one more day
cools off into it's bold
deep painting splash
make sure you go first.

Before the waxing moon
scurries to the sea
looking for it's mirror  
on the deep shady water
only to discover
zillions overlooking stars
are already there!

Nightingale hisses to the silent rose
east or west north or south
every direction the winds flow
know how melodious are my songs.
The quitter I am the sweeter it's
whispers the rose!

A thorn
sits  close
to the rose.

Peeping in the rose
the sun is gone
with the twilight.

The moon is at home
down the sea floor
shows up a mirror!

I know an abyss is
between you and me
seas and oceans billow
the overlooking moon
is untouched like it was before.

I know drifting off onto
a moonlight polished pillow
is not everyone's lucky go.
But not that never
once or more
did a star one or two
among the zillions
across your lunar brow
peeped in my dream
sweetening my nap.

But I know no sleep never
can made me forgot
my only moon-dew firefly glows
tuberoses shine by my windows!

It's a much sweeter today
than yesterday indeed.
Radiant meadows are on fire
beneath the trees
indulging blue fairies'
summer bowl of sun shines
abundantly overflowing
lavishly enough to render in
every rose of humming bees.

Pop up to flowers and bouquets
maybe the song on the birds' lips:
Time is today to jump in
on a London summer clement scene!

Up or deep down
which way is that
bedewed primrose path
the way forward?

Even the last breakthrough day
on the way heaven lingers
on sundried rosy evening clouds
let alone the roses that
never leave the ground.

Maybe some years gone by
raising the pyramid golden high.
The inbuilt deep sea of science and arts
in the making run in timeless time.
So why ponder spilling the beans
in one fine moment down the open sky?

Chart in rhymes
isn't all a poem is about.
Embrace words of art
mirrors of hearts!

Rose in a dew
I thought I caught
a glimpse of you.

Zooming in
I thought I can
get closer.
Only to eye on
upon a river
amid myriad
over looking stars.

A drop spans out
to be a sea
neither did it tarry.
I thought I would
give up that big
is not for me.

But yet a scene
never washed away
is intact unblurred
beneath the million
waves of the sea.
I thought the moon
will give up!
It can never touch
but always returns
over the sea
can't forget a scene.
So is me
once that
I chanced to see.

Love is a pain!
End of the day
found the cure
that too was love!

Between the two
is an eye
and the blue sky.

Still an unspoiled world
the butterfly
wings away.

The moonlit
starry sky
scrolls down the other eye!

If only it was
like a hair of you,
like a glimpse of you
in your mirror!
Like the all round one
perfect sway
nets the ultimate decimal of pi!