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On a distant summer
a girl walked four miles
to sell fruits at the haat
and mowed by the May heat
fell asleep on a patch of concrete.

The noon dusts played around her
sleep little girl rest your feet
the winds will play you a song
refresh you with dreams so sweet
the walk back home won't be long.


The sun had slid the shadows grown
when opened her dream dazed eyes
there she was at the haat all alone
her fruits in the basket had dried.

She had dreamed a round dime
clutched in her palm
colored gold with her wish

she had slept thru the time
and when the winds calmed
held nothing to buy home a fish.

Time has flown those dusts far away
years have grown her wise
yet when the winds blow lonely in May
her tears she cannot disguise.
Culled from real life, I thought of writing it for an adult mind, but ended up doing it for the child in me, or maybe, there's really no dividing line.
(Today I complete four years on HP, thanks to all my poet friends for being with me on the journey)
If i don't rise in blooming spring
Ring the doorbell of the gone
Cut off every string i have
Please unbind my ghost from earth
Shoot me flowers to the moon
Let me know i lived in you
Let me know i mattered once
***finding my poem on the daily was truly a nice surprise*** Thank you  wonderful poets
It is absolutely breath-taking..

how each of his exquisite poems sing..
a distinctive melody,
*how his mind works like magic...

sculpting the most incredible forms no one could.
Brilliance just shines through his woven pieces...
no words could really define how awe-inspiring his work is.
His meticulous sublime words...
uniquely create ingenious and flawless stanzas,

making each and every one of his craft...
out of this universe.


That is truly..
*
how gifted he is.
depleted
of energy,
a weight of gold
upon my heart,
its heavy dull luster
pushes down hard
squeezing out
        the light
suffocating
    my staccato
of breath
     I crouch        
quietly
in the brush,
the next step in
my process
                 pending
a dense rock
of pendulum
swaying time
  tick ticking
in my blood
cells reaching
the boiling point
just shy
of spilling over
into froth
waiting for
this conundrum
        to unravel,
my inner tigress
about to unfurl
             her heart
    to leap
and pounce
from
   within
into the
  tight
white
          of blinding
snow, the silent
storm of  
      the unknown
forever
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2LQdh42neg

Thank you, everyone, for your support and lovely, warm comments!! It is so appreciated <3
Fingers sinking deep
               below your surface;
               seeping into your *****,
               caressing your crevices.
               leaving their mark; baring pleasure.
               coursing ecstasy through your veins.
           searching for the highest of peeks beyond measure
               scorching heat, blood boiling, the pleasure pains
               soothing your aching flesh
               in relentless pursuit; of higher depths
               guilty yearnings, urges run rampant
               as your ecstasy starts to progress
               heavy breathing your hands held abreast
               pungent liquids; drenched with desire
               a seeping puddle stains the mattress
               gingerly leaking, outlining your canvas
                a mist in the air, cooling your skin;
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