The very end of August
Brings a stillness in the night,
When the many trills of midsummer
Are silenced and the fireflies gone out!
Lying stilly and listening, I hear
A solemn drone, like an old contralto,
Trying to warble but instead
Radiating an insistent hum
That thrums athwart the arid air,
Long fingers scraping a humming tanpura.
Even the full moon is dry,
Gazing down, matter-of-fact,
Through the dust-like mist.
Summer has given up,
Letting leaves and vines dry up,
Tinged with red and shriveled bronze.
I could walk in the garden now,
And not worry about slugs on
The dried stalks of lilies.
The robust asters offer little
Temptation to garden  pests
And strapping thistles seem to stand guard.
Is the balance between my will
Over the garden and its desire
To overflow and bloom beyond me,
Now achieved yet unwanted?
Yes…I prefer the lushness that comes
After the rains, with an untamed riot
Of color and green, the celebration
That happens on its own, heedless
Of my wishes; yet I revel in it
Every time it wins
And will wait a year
For this to emerge again.

We were at the table
It was quite loud there
But at that time it didn't bother me.
The smell of the August rain
Your presence and those endless talks
It really seemed like happiness is easy.
The morning came quickly and i had to leave
I took one more glance at your face and left...
Did you knew?
Back then I've had fallen for you from your first smile.

We might have met in August,
such an expected incident
I held the crown with one hand
as I play the king of games
We made friends, we told tales,
and soon agreed to flee
That with the trust that I gave you,
I let you held the key
For a friend was my illusion,
like happy insanity
You were there, you made it real,
I was taught to laugh and play

But then again, as old men says,
nothing stays the same
I was wrong, or, you got caught,
I was sure that you gave up
That the only thing that I have left,
was in your hands instead
And you played king with my crown and keys,
I did felt the shame

That I hoped, and that I wished,
that maybe it's okay to lead
That maybe I can grow and make dreams,
that I'd become a friend
That someday I'd make keys,
and make a happy place

But it was all just a dream,
now a broken memory
You made me grow, you built me up,
and shattered me in place
I sit here and this I write,
as a broken masterpiece.

Freedom is being free in spirit body and mind

Born in a free country
I have my freedom to express my thoughts
Freedom to persue my dreams
Freedom to visit the places I desire
Freedom to do whatever I like
And be a law abiding citizen

My Independence has come for a price
Paid by the many freedom fighters of my country
Who fought till their last breath
I cannot fathom their struggle

It only brings me tears
When I listen to the patriotic songs
Watch movies
Read the story
The truth , the history of the struggles

We had many rulers
We allowed

But today
I enjoy my freedom

With deep gratitude and respect
I salute
To the many freedom fighters
To The Armed forces of my country
For protecting and safeguarding me
When I enjoy my freedom , my life
I salute them all
And Recite , The Pledge

And promise that I will never bring dishonour to my country .

Happy Independence Day to my Country

Love Peace and Harmony to the World !

My eyes blink at the sight
of a pack of snarling wolves
chasing my candied dreams
into a swarm of bees.

My heart breaks at the thought
of my life after you
and the searing pain
of a one-time trillion
stings finds its long-term
residence

until forever

maybe more.

4 | Heartbreak in Hatfield

I had you constantly coming down a few minutes after breaking down.
In the presence of clumsy hands, fragile hearts break like porcelain does.
It is summer time somewhere but it is currently autumn right here in Pretoria.
Sometimes I wish that you’d never ask about my love life because I could never love or be loved right.
Love is the highest vibration and that’s why I always feel tremors every time I step out of my comfort zone.
You remind me of the month of August, you always remind me of the calmness of the colour blue.
Like a painter admiring the presence of his exquisite muse, I can’t stop looking at every colour of you.
Love is the highest vibration and that’s why I always feel tremors every time I step out of my comfort zone.
We cannot survive in the world with all these secrets that we have if all that we have is a lie.
Love is the result of all the vibrations of tremors that shook a long time ago.

I've always thought the stars shined brighter
when I was watching them with you.
It was our last night together
so we spent it outside.
Under this August sky,
the stars fell that night.
This was an ode to us
because it was the end of an era.

embers burning wildly among these old, familiar trees
wind whispers softly, and so do you
intense, slow-burning passion
unexpectedly beautiful, like speeding southbound on an open, mountainous highway, lightly adorned with trees;
every day kissed gently by the sunrise, and zealously by the sunset