Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
Once, the summer sun will rise in London
Like halve of the Ge meets the other halve.
Like a magic by the Lamp of Aladdin
The love flame hidden in the chest lits out!

Like a blooming rose in a glowing beam of light,
Like a smiling face speaks a gentle word,
Like a beautiful sunrise colour in the first light!

The summer in London will pop and sizzle
We will see a threshold in our land.
The rose for a while is tucked away
Off the winter and is given to the sun
Winter is not forever spring is on the corner
Come back in the sun with the early bird
Before Cinderella takes on the primrose path.

Keeping an eye on a thriller is in the winter’s field
Oozy ozone misty land gets a gingerly seasoning
What on earth will it strike, will it dish out?
Ah the sun will pop out like a river breeze.
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Daniel Jul 24
The lull of a restless night relieves my senses
It's monotone silence maintains my breath
The cold night breeze enters through an open window
It whispers soft tunes and attempts to put me to sleep
The humming of an exhausted laptop helps me decompress
It distracts me from thinking about my past
As the night goes on it starts to rain
It comforts my senses and cleanses my pain
This time-worn house cracks and creaks
It talks of troubled times and how it came to be
This place I call home proves i’m never alone
And it's always there to support me
3rd poem. Enjoy :)
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2017
Sometimes the day smiles
shows me its colour.
No, then the blue harbour
doesn’t look to be far
I feel like I got the wings to fly.

But who would sway away
when the rose under the nose
floating on a sea of colour?

The luminary punter too
drops down from the sky.
Paints the broad daylight
as it sails down on its way.

Ah, the southern breeze
bends with the rose of the day
before my eyes.
I see my hands are tied
without my butterfly.
Shofi Ahmed Aug 2017
The day is quiet
is given to the sun.
Pop in the night
every miniute
is people's time.

I look up in the sky
but missing a star.
Maybe it's lurking
in the sweet breeze.
The frost is still there,
Throttling the rhododendron leaf,
And ice stalls the dissolve
Of the stone-like snow,
Yet I am happy.

The sun-rays are almost Etruscan,
Filtered low through lace and blind,
Like that chink of sunset on Irene’s hair
Sad “couleur de feuille-morte”.
Yet it is sultry.

I can open a window
And breathe the warming air
Finches flock close, careless,
Now desperate for food
And pluck menescent fruit
Off an ice-bound branch.
In the distance, a cardinal sings.

Thick drapes are drawn aside
And geraniums strain toward the light.
In a nook outside the door,
An old cat basks on a corner of sun.
He yawns, seeing me, and strolls across the snow.

All nature seems to wait, but poised,
For the final unfettered token.
Will it be a sudden, favonian breeze?
Or the robin’s unrelenting noise?
Telling us, “Winter is broken”?
This is pretty obvious: it was one of those days in winter which seem so close to spring.
nish Jul 20
i despise you more by the day infiltrating my
every thought, have you no shame?
even as i drift into sleep, i hear
the baritone of your voice, a
passing in the night breeze,
confessing your love,
i know it’s not real
a simple illusion
brought upon
by delusion

yet  

i always reply
because I love you
and I wish you loved me too.
another 2o16 revamp
Moon Fire*      

de Luna climbs up
majestic fir brows
one rung at a time

to feel the shiver
of winter breeze
tickle higher
                         than treetops reach
.                                                          ­­                                            
where moonbeams
know the meaning
the shadows cast
upon the open palms
of nature’s hands

her halo encircles
a shapeless luster
beyond        
the faint whispers
in northern skies

wishing on
the nearest stars,
set ablaze
a smoldering heart
grown cold

as ...

the last winter moon
full and bright



wild is the wind © 2.22.2016
Fuego de Luna ~ Moon Fire
is a moment framed,
looking out my bedroom window
into the forest,
the final full moon rise
of winter
mesmerizing with a dreamful verve
percolating mercilessly within insomnia
Shofi Ahmed May 2017
I wanted to reach out to the sky
not to touch any star
just to whisper to the Moon
'How beautiful are you'!

I was still, stunned on the ground  
wandering down the sunrise hill.
In the midst of the morning breeze  
I heard of a whispering
‘The eyes in the sky gaze on the ground’.
So close to me that drew
as if that whispered to me ‘tell me about you’!
CK Baker Jul 19
through the streets and column cracks
culture weaves and summer smacks
sacred figure, holy shrine
monastery in grand design

cathedrals, convents, heaven’s stars
god of neptune, god of mars
doge’s palace, alley way
gondolier on full display

winged lion on pastel breeze
cicada singing from the trees
pillar walk of saint mark's square
basilica in all its flare

crosses shade the carousel
a bridge of sigh that leads to hell
golden stairs of placid ridge
arches of rialto bridge

torcello! murano! grigio!
the countess rides the river poe!
sins of seven, fiery hides
poplars bank the levee side

black plague, attila the hun
eden formed before the sun
paradise above the marsh
high alter, gothic arch

middle age, religious wars
celestial fountains, marble floors
sculpted peacock, catholic faith
all is true the great god saith
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