Santhosh Vijayakumar Poems

Love spoke to marriage,
“It is I who come first.”
For which marriage replied,
“It is for me you come.”
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Waiting Hopes

Someone, somewhere, is,
Born for me.
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Woman she is, great woman she is.
Mistress of young,
Companion of middle-aged,
And nurses of old.
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Great books call on us, to tell,
The reason of all ill fate,
Is only the burning desire.
Now I strongly ask,
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In dreams we spent our lives,
Our lives of the past and future.
Past lessons for the future,
And the future that is yet to come.
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Mask I wore on my naked face,
Not one but many.
One for money, another for fame,
Then another for command, and so on.
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Blew a heavy wind,
In a mountain near.
The flowers shattered,
The leaves fell,
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Take it slow, but,
Don’t be cruel.
All day and night,
Every little move,
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With pain of love,
I see you now.
Your looks and words,
Flattered me, like,
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“How is life? ” All ask.
And I have an answer to give,
“As beautiful as a bed of rose.”
They again do quest,
...