She then wears her special smile
an inamorata's conspiratorial
signalling her arousal, need to get me closer
right there in a room full of people
all of us in the midst of serious business.
I have deep yearning in my eyes
that in turn sets fire to her love central
we burn to be in each other's arms
lovers in exile, commandeer private moments
deflecting watchful eyes of jealousy
every time our secret rituals of amour
take unexpected arms and win wars.

This silent question I asked
for answer endless explored
where’s love grains husked
beyond eyes quietly kept stored!

Is it on the bed we sleep
whose sheet bears marks of lust
or something that’s more deep
hidden neath her layer of crust!

What’s the place love she stores
ceaseless flowing from the start
veiled in her all daily chores
I erred to be the place called heart!

In the house it’s a small nook
here her love makes me dumb
standing mesmerized as she cooks
I wait from her hand love’s crumbs!

Rain clouds, swirling emotions, crowd the horizon,
mind is taken over by wistfulness, sitting on her throne
of pain alone,the poet cradles her heart, to a trance she slips,
wings to a world, everything is possible----

melting heart's alchemy, builds a metaphoric edifice
she wills to live in it incognito for ever
none will discover this secret unless rarely an intrepid reader
without even knocking on the door comes in
perhaps, if a sweet suspicion arises, when resonating
with it's ambiguous core, and gets  a mute invitation,

the poem now is a lit house, in the pitch darkness of life
two inhabitants with different visions choose to live,
this house of metamorphosis, with increasing rooms
gets more visitors, who come and stay, at times they wish.

times invariably change, visitors swell or become a trickle,
the house well founded in the strength of a metaphor is alive,
around it's fireplace generations would huddle, find solace,
they hear the beats of thunderclaps and songs of pouring rain.

Super moon, freshly minted gold coin
tossed high up, to what mortals blindly lose
their hearts to,wanting to hold on open palms,
each one claiming, pointing up "This beauty is all mine"

You are the one who plates silver to my sweet sins
when she and I,roll on the open balcony in a frenzy uncontained
til it's waves  lash higher and higher,spill out and get placid
for that time I forget the play of dark matter and other secrets
of cosmos, still to be brought to light, by billion droller projects.
Let hydrogen colliders work day and night on it,
it doesn't interest me at this time of full moon joy
let me wallow in your illusion for now, it's enchantment pure
to me a  lover, it speaks,words  more real,than the forces hidden.

She was the river
sweeping flow, caressing
the banks of his life
a run down town
inhabitants had deserted
      one by one
citing various reasons,
sounding perfectly legitimate,
gifting him a blue gown of fog,
magical, written loneliness
in pastel colors all over it.
She was the flow
he wanted to immerse himself
bit by bit, on her he wanted
to float as debris, left over
the current that electrified him
with her surge, gave solace
with gifts from the mountain
of her origin and the planes
she visited.

             "Ḧere is a word" she said
on a sad day of his,
when  sun scarcely smiled
which in retrospect he realizes
the day he was redeemed,
elevated to the planes of immortals
words surely are!
He was bathing in her
bubbly waters scented with
mountain herbs, wild orchids and
faecund earth
"Ä word that would have
all answers, spoken in silence
a word, ultimate that tells you
  who you are"
a lark sang that one word,
from the limits of her flight,
a star wrote it with it's light
under moon's watchful eyes,
wind boomed the word's high notes,
stringing it's sonorous lyre
He kept the river's word
as a treasure wrapped by his soul
he still lives in that living word
his true abode.

The most elegantly turned out beast
                                   that in two legs roams in my part of urban forest,
with such impeccable taste and a heart
                                  brimming with prurient thoughts, transmitted
with the beat of brows, two bows,cannot be any other;
                                   I am in a poetic elation, at this moment of
thunder strike in my center of amour, as I watch your
                                  rambunctious locomotion, intently from behind.

You still are my blue jay of yore,
the songbird on the low branch
of the evergreen tree under which
I pitched my tent till my thirst was quenched
by your arias in blissful altisima poured in to my soul.
Your songs steadfastly refuse
to go down with time like leaves that wither and fall
those immortal moments, you gifted
did flow in to the blue ocean of time
where i float, refusing to  be beaten down by waves.
Those notes by sheer power of infused spirit
of your heart, make me still buoyant, I am indebted,
your song book,  in gold is engraved,  in my heart.
One journey continues, unmindful of every change,
through planes of timeless nature where we are one
defying rules man made, and imposed by mind.
We are two pure notes of music that fly, up and above
merge with the sonorous primordial hum of divine.

Blue bird,under spread protective wings
with boundless love, you hatched the giant egg,
grant this wish, make me transcend
like a ripe pumpkin* getting detached from it's stem;
hitch me a dream ride,when it's time
reach me beyond the limits of mind's make believe.

Lean on my chest, gentle one, let's sit holding hands,
mountain breeze whispers Shanti mantras, let's repeat it,
may tranquil be our souls, we aren't weary yet, but the ardor
of the climb ends here; from this vintage point we are,
distant heaven and beloved earth, look deceptively equidistant,
rest your eyes on mine, let me see eternity flashing it's light.

Don't even say a word, what your heart beat says is to my heart,
the view from this peak is what we dreamt always,remember?
an incredible leap of the souls, now we feel, is the reward of  the trek
we are equanimous, yet the  tears in your doe eyes, I can't bear,
we are mortals, pain is a mongrel, our faithful companion to the end.

Let's sit here, till the gold dust, the passing sun extravagantly sprinkles,
that tells stories of galaxies dying down and new ones taking birth-
finally settles, and the anesthetic of darkness gently descends.

Look! the hidden envious eyes of the night, from afar peep at us,
on the journey back, we'll fly beyond limits and vanquish the big dark.