Take me with you,
To a land where white flowers
Bloom in the night,
Where moths freely die in the light,
As I bloom and I die in your favors;
Take me with you,
Keep me close to you,
As the scent of white flowers
Invigorate the breath of lovers,
And I write with the ink of your eyes,
These petals of poetry,
Chaste as white flowers in the night.
Anita Bacha.
Photo credit:Raj Swami.
O Man! Your heart is frozen,
As the highest peak capped with snow;
At your sight, I became smitten,
Your heart I cannot melt, I know;
My face covered with snow dust,
I shout your name in love and in lust ;
Cold and fixed,you are emotionless,
O Man! You are heartless!
Anita Bacha
Picture credit Facebook 
Winter is cold,
You’re gone,
Ink is frozen,
Words forgotten,
Lone searing eyes,
Stoned with ice.
Anita Bacha
A well kept secret is this flower
That did not bloom in the blue grass
Today the sky is deep green,
The grass is sapphire blue,
I walk up the heath,
To say a last farewell to you,
A well kept secret is this flower,
That didn’t bloom in the blue grass,
Yet its sweet fragrance will linger,
As far as memories will last.
How to tell you,
What is more painful than a blast in the ear,
More painful than a suppressed tear,
More painful than the whistle of a train,I hear;
How to tell you,
Nothing is more painful than your leave,
Feigning that without you I can live;
How to tell you,
What is a beloved without the lover,
Or a lover without the beloved,
Or me without you, or you without me;
How to tell you,
What is the sky without a moon,
Or a moon without the sky,
Or me without you, or you without me.
Anita Bacha
Photo credit -Rajesh Swami
How to tell you,
What is sweeter than a drop of honey,
Sweeter than a grain of sugar,
Sweeter than the juice of a strawberry;
How to tell you,
Nothing is sweeter than your tongue,
Melting like ice in my mouth;
How to tell you,
What is a flower without a bumble bee,
Or a bumble bee without a flower,
Or me without you, or you without me.
Anita Bacha
Photo credit: Anita Bacha
Anita Bacha 