I live in a strange world. The music of my life has its own rhythm. I write from imagination and inspiration. The canvas has no limits and colors can be picked from a personal experience, childhood memories, a person, a movie, a novel, a symphony, a painting, a picture or any poem written by a favourite poet.
Swooping on gradients and hairpin bends
When the sun sinks and softly descends
At a mellow pace in Heaven's wide arch
A thousand pines in the clouds' arms
...
The Bare Tree
In the chill of night, I stand and gaze
My boughs bare stretch and sway in haze
...
How beautifully she sings
and dances
Enticing people by
her prances
...
A bud encased, in sepals wrapped
Beauty's sleep, fragrance trapped
Gently touched by zephyr's waft
Rays warmed her folded heart
...
Sunday morning, I switch
on to the news app
to listen to the exclusive
news over a cup of coffee.
...