In silence I probe my heart
To write some lines for you
‘Ask the meadow!’ Says my heart
’Ask the flower!’ Says the meadow
‘Ask the lake!’ Says the flower
Lulled by quiet inspiration
These lines I write for you
Afloat on a lake of heavenly bliss
In the meadow of my heart
On a bed of scented flowers
Your memory lingers
As profound as the still waters
As vast as the meadow
As nostalgic as the perfume of wild blooms
If I were to forget you
I would forget the meadow, the flower, the lake
I would forget my poetry
You open to me in the heat of the sun,
Your purple color runs in my veins,
Your beauty is a divine perfume,
My life is imbued with your quintessence;
Once you teach me how to dance,
We twirl and we swirl in the wind,
A joyous song in our heart,
Heedless of the hammering rain;
Secretly in the chill of dusk,
You fold your dying petals,
Enclosing me in the depth of your soul.
Photo credit: Raj Swami
Yesterday’s close tight buds,
This morning ravishing full blooms,
Picked delicately from my garden,
Laid devoutly at your altar,
Shine their light like a hundred diyas,
A string of silent words,
An unwritten poem to my beloved.
Photo credit:Raj Swami/Rajasthan/India
Your voice is an eternal song,
Your voice lulls me to sleep,
Your voice calls me to dream,
Your voice brings tears to my eyes,
Your voice makes me smile,
Your voice seduces my mind,
Your voice unleashes my needs,
Your voice arouses my passion,
Your voice fills up my senses,
Your voice touches my soul,
Your voice is all I heed.
Photo credit:Raj Swami//Rajasthan /Parlika
The fall comes in my garden as a sorceress
The sky covering the morning sun with a thick dimness
Broom sweeps, leaves and flowers fly off in a maelstrom
Cold downpours freeze the subterranean thunderstorm
Birds flee up in the skies with a scream
Trout hide under the stones of the stream
I look full of hope, my love, at the radiance in the horizon
No matter the rain, the cold, the melancholy of the autumn season
Whatever the absence, the long days of waiting, the starless nights
Whatever the tears, the suffering and the frights
I wait, mad lover that I am, for your return in spring
Linger for the promised kisses, the delirious frolics in the field
I dream of the elating scent of the rose on your tanned skin
I dream of poppies crushing on your mouth my stolen longing
Illustration/Photography Anita Bacha
Poetry brings the world together.
One may wonder how does the writer’s mind work. How can he focus both on writing a story for children and simultaneously pen down about love, passion, disloyalty ,break ups, happiness, joy, sadness et al, which makes up a collection of love poems for adults. The answer is as simple as this, writing can be compared to cooking. You give a good cook a bag of grocery and he will make you a fantastic meal!
From my early childhood, I am a book person, or a book worm ,if you prefer. I hate to go to school though and prefer to sit down in a corner, to dream and to play at imaginary games.
My eldest sister, Romila started schooling at 5. I was only three years old then. My Papa bought Romila her first book. I still remember clearly the name of the book, its color, white with black and brown images on the front cover and on the pages. The title of the book was ‘TOTO ET LILI’. A book written by Augé in French. Romila was overjoyed with her book. I asked to touch, to hold and to smell the book. I fell in love with books! It was love at first sight. I can still smell, after numerous decades past, the heartwarming odour of a new book as it penetrated my young nostrils on that memorable day.
In no way was I motivated to go to school! I loved the book, the words, the images. They had the power to journey me into wonderland. I was Toto, smoking his pipe. I was Lili, laughing.
My Papa was delighted to observe my interest in books. He offered me my first illustrative story book for my birthday.
As I grew up, I loved to imagine stories about animals, children, ghosts and fairies and to relate them to my younger siblings, cousins and other children. I kept this habit after I was married and had children. In turn, I invented magic stories to tell to my children at bed time and any time that called for a fantasy story. Years after, I gathered new listeners around me. My grandchildren became very fond of my fables .I started to pen down these stories and to store them in my computer.
However, after I published my first poetry book, Soul Poetry, in 2015, my son succeeded in convincing me to write a story book for children. He believes that my stories have the potentials to stimulate the imagination, the curiosity and the love for reading of children of all ages. From a good story teller, his dream is to see his mom as a good story writer!
My first illustrative children book which is dedicated to all the children of the world will be released soon.
Wish me luck, dear readers and bloggers!
A KISS IS THE MOST WONDERFUL GIFT WE CAN GIVE TO A LOVED ONE
TOO MANY RELATIONSHIPS END UP IN SEPARATION,
YET COUPLES NEVER FORGET THEIR FIRST KISS,
IT REMAINS FRESH AND SWEET IN THEIR MEMORY FOR ETERNITY.
Someone told me once ‘The kiss is the sweetest in the love’.
I totally agree!