Falling in love

If I had one more heart

I would readily give it to you

And to you and

perhaps to you too!

But you see, the one I had,

Is already taken

Yet everyday, I keep falling in love

For my senses are so easily enraptured

I fall in love with your sunrise

I fall in love with my dusk

I fall in love with traditional cooking

When the heady aromas envelop

I romance aromatic baking

For it brings a smile on my kids’ faces

Makes my home smells heavenly

And store bought cookies replaces

I fall in love with the angelic tangle of arms and legs

now asleep without a care

Whose sibling rivalry and revelry fill my home

As well as my life and soul

I fall in love with your words, your turn of phrase

What you say and what you leave unsaid

I fall in love with the verses that reach out to me,

The stories that only your mind can create

Your unique experience that you kindly share

I fall in love with the pictures of blooms and pets you send

I fall in love with the magic of movies

And their world of wondrous make- believe

I fall in love with many a books

Their life like characters and their authors

And the belief and conviction that they portray

I fall in love with the music I listen to,

The singer, the writer and the musician

I fall in love with the raindrops falling

The overcast skies and the crescent moon

I fall in love hopelessly and completely everyday

And as my whimsical heart waxes and wanes in love

The one who captured my heart many moons ago

Sits in a corner looking indulgently

At the shenanigans of my wayward heart

He draws me close and holds my hand and says

” Your heart is not my captive, let it love and love freely

As long as I have a place in your heart

Accommodate as many loves as you can”

Thus, in freeing my heart, he captures it again.

Advertisements

Only on Sundays

Hidden beneath a pile of laundry like a soiled secret

sunk under a sink full of dirty dishes, a sodden regret

pinned between the grocery lists, some guilt

swept away by the mop and the broom, a bucketful of unfulfilled wishes

sucked in by a vacuum cleaner, all enthusiasm

held down by a pile of files, weighty questions

drowned by different voices, creating cacophony

skulking behind the laptop like a scolded child

sulking underneath the smartphone, a lone desire

lost in the amazon forest of eking a living

life is bruised, battered and bypassed on weekdays;

days that are chockablock with the art of surviving

and then…

a night of languid rediscovery

unrestrained giggles, tousled heads,

teenage tangle of lanky limbs on my bed

brighten my late, lazy morning

as I follow a flitting butterfly,

trace the delicate veins of fallen leaves

inhale deeply the fresh smell of grass

and listen to an old forgotten melody

I feel life unhurriedly seeping back into me

I finally come alive on Sundays

to tackle the days that follow.

Raindrops

I watch the fat raindrops fall

gently they sit there bubble like

on a pool of water

their ephemeral irridescence mesmerising

and then they are gone

as I sit ensconced inside

the warmth of my abode

the transience of raindrops

a case of learning for me;

to shine in the limited time I have.

Forest in Monsoon

The swollen, serpentine stream was in spate

babbling and burbling it moved at a rapid pace

the vibrant, verdant valley with vantage views

was resplendent in efflorescence of myriad hues

a carnival of fragrance blew in the air

the plump, pregnant raindrops plopped without a care

the canopy of leaves feebly pierced by chords of light

the cicadas played a symphony, and all was right.

A rain drenched evening

The skies have opened up suddenly

raindrops are chasing each other unrestrainedly

a cool zephyr redolent with petrichor blows pleasantly

cinereous clouds play catch and trace patterns lazily

a young lanky lad drenched to the skin

lets loose a lambada jig unmindful of his scolding kin

two girls place paper boats delicately in the puddle

a  couple of pups take shelter in a doorway and huddle

it’s a beautiful, picturesque evening

but without you, it has no meaning.

Nothing, zilch, nada…

I am rooting the dirt soil of my brain

looking for a wormhole for connection

Alas! All that comes to my mind

is insipid, lacklustre and shallow

I am no poetry jock to be able

to weave meaningful verses

from disparate words, with no commonality thread

so I give a decent burial to the idea of a poem for today.

Monsoon

​

The pitter-patter of rain is music to my ears

The dancing raindrops sing their own melody

The sky is swathed in myriad shades of grey

the scattered clouds chase each other merrily

the trees sway in happiness

the leaves shiver with delight

Oh the heavenly manna

blessing the parched earth!

turning it from dusty brown

to a lively green hue

let it rain, let it pour,

let it drench to the core

let it reign over the heat

let it rain to a staccato beat.

On the edge

Sitting on the edge of twilight zone of consciousness

dangling by gossamer thread of sanity on the verge of slumber

casting random pebbles of words

into the pond of turbid reflections

causing ripples to stir abandoned memories

that had banded together and resisted being written about

and had become tight fisted about confession

I wait an eternity for some response

empty handed and exhausted I stray back to sleep

hypnotized by the darkness of nightmares.