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!

Eye on the mirror.
See the heart,
the treasured treasure?

Can't spill the beans
is more than
science or art!

Da Vinci code or more
mystique than that
cracking the secret  
only one that popped up
lost the tongue!

Rive! Split apart,
up and down
circle both ways.
Let the pearl be
down the sea
and the star
up on the high
find the sky.
Not a perfect circle
yet to scoop the last
decimal of Pi
it's fine.
Let a loophole be
only for an eye!

Mirror, mirror
seen my eyes
see my heart!

Fancy punting
  only on the waxing
     moon slice?

The sun eyes on
   picks the paintbrush
     on the dark side.

There is always
   one more star
      fancies a black mole
         in the low light!

No wonder the rushing sun
    for unseen heaven
        leaves the broad daylight
           always dips in the twilight!

True, the sugar tops
sweeten everyone's mouth.
Hold onto the salt though
let's not lose out.

Pinches of sea salt
    dancing smash hit
deep down the sea floor
   ace extracting ice cores,
boom, the clouds form high,
show the upside is sky!
    
Jubilant cumulus pop
only crystal clear vibes 
let the wind see through
that sings the rhymes.

Oops, it's not always a blue sky
wispy white clouds turn dark.
The storm soars the larks fly low
busy men down the trees
seek refugee for a mo.

Sticking my head under a roof
pondering me find a room.
Is this 'smash hit high sail
of the clouds rising from deep core,
all is gone in a blink of a storm'.

Not far in the sky
nor deep down the sea.
I see a raindrop on a shining
flower before me.
Something more to tell
very closely!

Quality is dear
Heaven is not cheap
Neither is the earth
To be anyone’s for good
Then before losing
One’s hand or foot
Seize the opportunity
Get in gear
Leave good for the better.

Like the first light:
The power candle
Sunrise on the golden high
May fall for for the rose
At first sight
As if the veiled night
Popped rosy on its black mole
But always before long
Back to the night the sun is gone.

The earth on the go
leaves a dew
on a so polished petals
as if that's never
been touched before.
If the dew rolls down
the sea dance in billows.

The moon too ambles down
but only to tread on the edge.
No star ever saw
it touched the lofty sea on the go!

Kings and emperors
wanted just a sip once for all.
Albeit not even Alexander the Great
could hand on a nectar is yet to pop
an uncharted water drop.

The sun first thing in the morning
tends to align towards it.
The nightingales hops on the rose
a new day breakouts in rays of gold.

When the arts of the day is done
'it's not' still a black canvas remains
on the pick of the twilight
the Moon gives the first pose
to the countless stars!

And that punters cloud somewhere
above the earth and down the sky
pours down singing
the deep song of the sea day and night.

Yet an uncharted but ever on
stands on tangent water drop
neither withers in the rays of sun  
nor due to the gravity pulls down!

The evening star
at the sunset of Ramadan.
Mistake it not for a stellar
maybe an embroidery fell down
from the broidery in paradise!
What crosses in your mind, dear
fondly you look back
at this nick of time?

The twilight ambles down
with moonflowers on the hands
is about to wrap up
one more blessed day of Ramadan.
What have you come up with then
for the fasting person on your hand?
What a broad array
you stole the last show of the day!

Singing nightingales keeps musing
deeps down the rose in low light.
The first light shines out
amidst the dawn chorus.
What does it miss out
the nightingales disappears
in broad daylight.

Have you too leave the scene
with the rose dews
only to pour it off the honeyed petals
into the fasting person's glass?    
So cool it tastes a sip of water
at the Iftar!

Target is clear
be something
when the time is up!

The rose is at the tip of the fingers
the thorn is down the abyss what now
is a golden sun in a dew
hanging on its petal balmy hue!

The nightingale did jump on it  
first thing in the morn
but one seems to know the rose
since the dawning of the dawn!

I will be back
where the sun returns.
Goodness knows
shunning how many stars
it comes on the way.
For me just meeting you is fine.

A hiss of the moon tucking
into just a pair of lock
let alone in pavilion-tresses
on the back of one's eternal silence.
Giving autumn shadows
to seven skies' azure.
What now the stars are gone
followed in their countless galore!

Eyes of the buds ope
dreaming nightingale
hops up to the morning rose  
singing in what a balmy fold.

Wish I have that
raised brow.
Let alone eying
the moon on the highs
but up to your eyes.

Neither do you
let me down.
You touch down the abyss
seal the bottom of the sea
before my teardrop falls down!

“Say to my friends, when they look upon me, dead,

Weeping for me and mourning me in sorrow,

‘Do not believe that this corpse you see is myself,

In the name of God, I tell you, it is not I,

I am a spirit, and this is naught but flesh,

It was my abode and my garment for a time.

I am a treasure, by a talisman kept hid,

Fashioned of dust, which served me as a shrine,

I am a pearl, which has left it’s shell deserted,

I am a bird, and this body was my cage,

Whence I have now flown forth and it is left as a token,

Praise to God, who hath now set me free,

And prepared for me my place in the highest of the Heavens,

Until today I was dead, though alive in your midst.

Now I live in truth, with the grave – clothes discarded.

Today I hold converse with the Saints above,

With no veil between, I see God face to face.

I look upon “Loh-i-Mahfuz” and there in I read,

Whatever was and is, and all that is to be.

Let my house fall in ruins, lay my cage in the ground,

Cast away the talisman, it is a token no more,

Lay aside my cloak, it was but my outer garment.

Place them all in the grave, let them be forgotten,

I have passed on my way and you are left behind,

Your place of abode was no dwelling place for me.

Think not that death is death, nay, it is life,

A life that surpasses all we could dream of here,

While in this world, here we are granted sleep,

Death is but sleep, sleep that shall be prolonged

Be not frightened when death draweth nigh,

It is but the departure for this blessed home,

Think of the mercy and love of your Lord,

Give thanks for His Grace and come without fear.

What I am now, even so shall you be,

For I know that you are even as I am,

The souls of all men come forth from God,

The bodies of all are compounded alike,

Good and evil, alike it was ours.

I give you now a message of good cheer

May God’s peace and joy forever more be yours.”

Laced with ribbons of moonlight
Bangladesh a touched dream at first light.
Land of my father, my mother
sweeter than nectar.
Purer than the driven snow
brighter than raw gold.
Gazing stars’ bumped up bottom
down the untouched moon.

Men and the six seasons
living in one loving fold
our one fertile sweet home!
O Allah rank our martyrs our heroes
up high in paradise in bloom
brought Bangladesh freedom abloom!

Punters cumulus clouds fly
eyes on the sky blue  
on a spur hanging low tune into wild coo.
Picture independent Bangladesh
step in on the morning rug
rolls out outside the sun
walk through, the moon is inside!
Bask in, take your time
when the twilight adds a shadow
the beauty spot on your broad daylight
escape to more serendipitous discovery.
Eye on the stars or tuberoses on the ground
our free land is inspiring, beautiful even in the dark.

Laughs free from a tulip glass  
across the land, air and the water
upon the reed flute stirred river
flowing downstream to the hilt
from a deep-delved foundation out of reach
her raised high flag flies
over the pivotal banyan trees.

Every flap of our ‘the sun in the green’ shaped flag,
the light of heaven on the evergreen earth!
Ah, sways in the chalice of every flower
on the land cheers beyond the warm South
whispers to our hearts and makes us feel proud.

The fairies of colour
lovely might give you
the whole ball of wax.
With the algorithm on your side
but how long can one hold the water  
walking on a deep spinning earth?
Forever closing in never a perfect circle
there is a fine gap an unseen other side
maybe until the moon if ever
reaches out to the deep walking earth  
the pi creeps in the sun follows by!

Every now and then
dip in the water
and every mo
breath to live.

Man comes and goes
it’s a bottomless sea
and the air is still deep

A thought of you crosses my mind
never knew it would treat
my midday blues that wild.
Banished it in a blink of an eye
in less than a swift mo
the rose sway at the first light.

The day was long though
but gone before the rainbow
touches the butterfly.

Scurried to the night
back into the half veiled Niqab.
The waxing moon is on the open half
down the far-fetched sun's half eye.

When will you come by
before my eyes?

The moon sways
down the sun’s half eye
for it every mo
is the elephant is in the room
before the sun zooms out  
deep down from the pi.

Magic is uncracked within
that first light breaks out
dawns in the eternal night
is a shiny tear in the speechless
witness’ open eye,
on the tight lips, deep runner silent pi!

Men on the painstakingly polished circle
may have hewn out riveted eyes.
Up more is set free deep down the pi,
bottom in anew, in open paradise!

Kohl black night
forehead is so full.
Countless myriad
stars eye on every angle.
Who knows how many more
look for one more black nook?

Happy New Year to all,
Gluten free, sugar free
perhaps preservatives free goods
We like to be thick in stocks.

O God let it be all in all
a Covid free 2022 store.
Happy New Year to all.

One half is Earth
the other half is the sky.
The sun zooms  
into one half-hole,
rosy dew, serene cool.  
The sea breaks and pops
the other half is always full.

Night falls in a blink of the Moon
the sunrise paints and unfolds
over the first glimpse of the blue ocean
only to blackout at twilight soon.
Again resumes in the open circle
in the deepening depth of the pi.
Counting numerous decimal-stars
between the half Earth, half sky
the cut to short half way is still a far cry.

A precise half is true
is well counted half of the full.
The true value of the pi so
Someone is in the know!

Earth is gold dust
when not found.
But the found one
is only earth!

Heaven can descend
down to the dust
reaching out
to a good heart.
Even the hell burns
doesn't want
the evil inside.

Truth prevails makes it clear
little eyes little does it care.

When I am over the moon
feels of a mo reaching for the stars.
The very moment I feel it the most
my toes are dipped in the dust.

The day on a high
reaches the peak
over the pyramid.
Shrouded in twilight
now tucked in light
pushes the envelope.
The whole panache of stars
came out in the pitch dark.
The North Star is on the way
oh do me a favour
I will tell you why.

Veil the angle of dawn
in the black shades of the night.
There are dark caves
even inside the pyramid
scientists, trained eyes
yet to tread on that way.

Put on it only an instance of your kohl
the daylight is already a burnt mole.
Light in the wrap in the night
your muslin veiled silken moonlight
is enough to find the tuberose’s earth.

If the tucked away sun crops up
once again over the morning’s rose petals.
Again it will dive deep into the angle
after an angle in the black hole of the night.
A far cry from the glowing firefly
eyeing blindfolded behind the moon
perfectly beyond every looking star.
Until the master arts in silk black finds the true pencil
not in visualising but catching the views of the sunrise
through the lens of the rose pollens’ kohl-eyes.

A human jumps over the other side of the wall
the pi was on the way, abyss of decimal ocean
kept expanding deep and wide but the formula
was handy on her hand she could nail it down.
Perfectly squares the circle, the ocean in a drop
and peeps up over the irrational chasm for good
scaling at the highest high Fathima moons!
.
Deduces straw by straw the maestros' dream ascension
potion-polished taking Ma pauses in liminal crescendo
between past and future, here and hereafter, circle duo.
Limning out chiaroscuro in light and shadow
oh, nothing is like it in plain sight or the world in toto!

Raw Fathima moves on the shadow nature follows
clustering atoms ever spin in the space in between the two
impossible to fathom, couldn't do in Makkah and Medina,
remained untouched, uncharted while there she was living
in encrypted fashion wholly secured yet full functioning! 
The intelligent design, blueprint is in her elements
and the breakthrough exponent is in her eyes
she is the original can show the way.

Truly the only one feminine zoom passes the irrational pi,
the most complex chasm yet mathematically goldmine.
Beyond the mass eyes and their painting canvases
in the daylight that get lost though at the twilight but us
are victorious; since a human being bears the moonlight!

The night at the twilight may take the sun into its veil,
as a little mole into its star-vanishing fathomless trails.
The rainbows are already shaded into Fathima’s black hair
bolder than the dark matter that has the cosmos
glinting off it’s edge, the story goes on for the mass
‘Paint in bold black before the sunrise’ Fathima matters.

The first half light crescent sneaked out
catching a glimpse of you glinting  
exuberant on the pitch dark
edge of the other side of the pool
wrapped in pure kohl.
Time and again matching the vision
it waxes into the full moon.

Awake all night in the serene shadow
down the blinded silhouetted earth.
I can see out off its calm lock
a firefly flies out and maybe afar
but that view might not miss no star.
But does even the moon see the tuberose
blooms in dark earth deep down the kohl?