Tuesday, February 19, 2008

My Words Cry


You are my song
and all the things I feel.
You are my smile,
my pain, my heal.
You are my life,
my truth, my lie.
But I don't know why
My words cry.


The Season of Love


I want to paint your picture
In the snowfall.
I want to ask my questions
To the leaves in autumn.
Why does spring sing your songs
And the rain call your name?
I want to paint your picture
In the snowfall again.
I want to profess my love
In that endless winter night,
And kiss you when I see your face
Sparkling in the moonlight.
My love for you, will remain,
In all seasons the same.
And I want to paint your picture
In the snowfall again.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Kasauli

(This poem is about a place called KASAULI in Himachal. Went there for a trip and fell in love :). The picture is of the church mentioned in the lines)
                                                      

The old grey church
Steals all my words.
Morning wind composes
A new song.
Come hold my hand
Don't whisper a thing.
As the red brick road
Sings along.


Poets Who Blog: Do You Support PWB?

Poets Who Blog: Do You Support PWB?
yes, this was the kind of a group i was looking for. nice effort.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

The Wooden Bridge

(this poem is about a wooden bridge on which two lovers meet every night)

Sharing the burden,
Of a waiting heart.
I feel her tears
And their warmth.
Alone in the night,
She stands for hours.
Stamping me sometimes,
Sometimes gazing at the stars.
She refuses to talk,
When he is late.
Leaves me wondering,
The purpose of the wait.
But here romance is born
Pure as moonlight,
When she lies in his arms
And they dance away the night.
Dawn parts them with a kiss,
And a promise to meet again.
Even if the sky is dark.
Or they have to dance in the rain.

Kiss From A Rose

Kiss from of a rose
On my grave.
Anguished words
Are lost in dust.
And every tear that will
Roll down your eyes
Is going to make me
Cry again.

A Mile Away...

There she stands
A mile away.
As beautiful as ever.
Holding her silence,
Saving her words.
Almost a whisper,
that only the wind can hear.
She knows my name.
I know her fragrance.
I can feel her touch
On my soul, saving me
From who I was before.
She never asked for my love,
But that is all I have to give.
I see truth in her eyes,
In me she believes.
The horizon changes
And stars disappear.
The sunset is somber,
As the sky cries my tears.
But she is still there.
Standing a mile away,
As beautiful as ever.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

August

The first golden leaf
Touches the ground.
The gods of autumn
Are marked with rust.
The sky turns copper and
Trees howl in loneliness.
The mist starts its journey.
Let there be August.