Going down, but it's not bad.
Going down to the river
to clear my head.
Simple things like skipping rocks
Or catching fish in the stream
Remind me that
even in times like these,
Life could still be a dream

A cloudless sky,
    so blue and flawless,
         so bright and promising,
              makes me think of us.
A beautiful cathedral,
     so old and strong,
          so grand and intricate,
               makes me think of trust.
A daisy,
     so small and alive,
          so strong yet fragile,
               makes me think of sacrifice.
The ocean,
    so deep and vast,
         simple yet extraordinary,
              makes me think of honesty.
And the night sky,
    so dark and light,
         black and white,
              reminds me of true joy.

The window that I can see,
Has no good view
But the glass in its paneled frame
Gives a look thats quite new.
The window has two bifolding shutters
Giving it a charming look
And the white European grill outside it
Makes it as interesting as written in a book.
Though minimum light filters through this window,
It certainly has a charm.
The artificial plants hanging outside them,
Gives it colour and a refreshing sort of calm.

it’s okay to love the simple things
like the way coffee smells in the morning
rainy days
long car rides
messages from old friends
good books
hellos from strangers
lost pennies
puppy kisses
and the casual way that i am just me
-k.j.c

The water strains through your hair,
Little droplets flung into the air as you turn.
Your smile at me,
The slight exasperation from your lips.
“Do I have to?” You ask.
“Of course,” I clap.
The brush hits your hair,
A knot makes you grimace.
Your hair slowly puffs,
You finish and present.
“Like an angel made for me.”
You huff your irritation,
Your head a puffy fluff of hair.
Yet,
One look at my simple smile,
And you plan to say yes if I ask again.

The simple things are often said to be the best things in life,
As the opening of doors are better than the sound of closed doors.
The silence of sheets laid still under a thick comforter.
You and I.
Walking down the hallway hand and hand.
Staring in the window of each others soul.
Sharing a laugh or two in the midst of deep conversation.
Something silly, something witty.
Something simple.
Someone like you.
Someone to share a laugh in relation to how similar we saw the world growing up.
Did you really think it would end so fast.
Growing up to see how much we differ, how many things are still the same.
Fighting over what to watch, what we're going to eat if we ever manage to get out of the bed.
Old habits die hard especially after a long day at work.
The simple things that bring us closer together.
Whether we decide to go out and try something new or lay here a moment longer,
No matter how much we get on each other's nerves.
I'll still kiss your forehead
As it's the simple things that make life worthwhile

All that glitters never meant much to me,
Petals fall & fade, withering along with time like its temporary immortality,
Money joining suit in its temporary fervour, but never buying love as the Beatles crooned.

So let me tell you what does:

The look on your face when I've made you happy with a surprise or two;
The sound of your laughter reverberating through the air as I cowl in my witty silly remarks;
The mental connection that pleasantly astounds me with every thought-stealing line and mirrored gestures-humour-reaction-action;
How your words has awaken the inner dormant writer/poet and inspired to put my venomous quill to paper again;
How you make me feel beautiful, appreciated and respected, just the way I am;
Your empathy and understanding that chase the dark clouds away and silence my demons;
The way we make love with the glances we exchange in public like there's no one around;
The way we make love with our bodies, explorative archaeologists tracing each other's landscapes gently-sweetly-devilishly;
How you claim my arm across, intertwining with yours, caressing it as if it's a part of you;
When your palm holds my face lovingly while we exchange sweet kisses, nibbles and all;
Blowing soft breaths onto our goosebumpy skins, whispering how much we love each other;
Cheekily stealing smooches at traffic light stops which never seem to be long enough;
Resting your head on my sturdy shoulder as I cushion mine into yours, christening it with my lips,
As we serenade that BSB song transporting me back to 14 again.

And the realization pierces me through like truth always does:

That I would not trade any moment, any era, any wish, any desire
Than the one right now with you that has headily grasped me so:
A dizzying cocktail of drugs that is you.

Shalini Nayar
31.10.14
(c) 2014