PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When tornados cool off their fists,

and god’s galloping horses

leave white fluff scattered throughout the blue;

when shadows thickened,

and the gazebo at the back

dresses up in green,

then the worn cashmere-mossy pat

guides you to my gate.

There you are standing with a quiet smile,

with one hand put inside your pocket and the other

hiding daffodils under your jacket.

So here is a perfect painting,

my brush- still soaked in pink,

my heart beat quickens with the bell,

and it is just a door between us.    

When winds blow open the portals of the season,

and birds serenade a joy

of worshiping cascading blossoms,

we melt into each other

in the hold of honey-nectar kiss.

When breezes fold the roses

where the old arbor use to be,

through the mist of tiny ripples

also in my dreams

you are still standing there,

while a yellow narcissus

adorns my hair.