The sun was mellowing like a luscious mango
and a small slit on its zest,
poured out its savoury sweet rays in the sky
turning the never-ending space into a blend of coloured popsicles,
from the brightest orange to a chrome of honey like amber
reviving my dull loafing adulthood
back into a fanciful imaginary childhood.

I am reckoned to talk about rocket science
to see things like those of spacecrafts and satellites.
But all I think of is walking over rainbows
And riding on white unicorns
unlikely of a grown up with rational outlook
but promising to a dreamy child
wanting to fly higher and higher on the carpet of cotton clouds.

All through the years, the imagination of a child
sheared off by precise and wise reasoning,
the innocence of the heart uprooted right away
once it believed it grew to what it has become today.
everything turned from feathers to ashes
when we learned that we can fly without wings
swirl up high in the sky with winged machines
but still cannot touch and make cloud *****
like the way we imagined and dreamt
when we were naive and small.

What's Amaranthine?
Those beautifully painted skies
blended with shades of pink, blue and purple
or your star like eyes
that dazzle at the gaze of mine.
What's Amaranthine?
The deep blue ocean blessed with marine salt
or your aesthetic and revered soul blessed with no faults.
What's amaranthine?
the splendor and magnificence of nature embellished with the flowers of spring, summer and winter
or your serenity,
which is as calm as a summer sea.
What's Amaranthine?
The immortal and unfading vigor of the universe
or the heart marred with scars,
craving for the undying and unconditional love of yours.

His anger blooms
like the amber color flames of a sunflower.
Burning bright and fierily.
And I don't know whether to stare him down
with my vehement warmth,
to see his aesthetically pleasing face
or hide behind the gray clouds
to calm down his rage.