Thursday, September 29, 2016

Sleepless

The night closes in.
People retreat,
to love and laughter.
Out there somewhere,
you are still on vigil.
Even though I yearn
to be tucked in tight with you,
sleep eludes me.
Fear saunters by,
gripping at the fringes
of my mind,
and the what-ifs
weigh me down.
So, I sit and gaze,
aimlessly,
at the screen of my phone,
brave-half praying
for the damned thing to ring
so I can sleep
to the lulling comfort of your voice,
and the timid-half
hoping it wouldn't buzz.
Why, oh why,
is it so hard to sleep
without you by my side?

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words: Sleep

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Unripened

Verdant green springs laugh,
in the courtyard of my home,
leaves rustle in breeze.

Linking with RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #116 Home&Leaves

Slivers of your smile

Slivers of your smile,
in grooves and curves of my heart,
I carry daily.

Linking with Haiku Horizons: Carry

Friday, September 23, 2016

Covetous? Perhaps!

There's a part of you,
perhaps one-quarter,
that I refuse to share.
With anyone!
Even though I know
I don't own you,
I am still immoderately desirous
of this one-quarter:
that leaves
infinite
memories in my mind
footprints on my soul,
and smile lines on my face;
solely and strictly for me.
I unashamedly relish
every single fibre
of this one portion
of your being.
So much so that
I could place
an "exclusively reserved"
tag on that countenance of yours.
This one-quarter,
I refuse to share
for I love the creases
it leaves on the bedspread
of my heart.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words: Share

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Aftertaste of your name

I like the aftertaste of your name
lingering on my tongue,
unsoured and unfermented.
The way the syllables sound,
poetic, almost melodic
and long after the vibrations
have stopped resounding,
it still resonates,
its redolent notes invigorating
and conjuring the afterimages
of your delicate and frail being
beneath those carelessly worn gossamer garments,
in muted shades,
nothing too loud,
save for your buoyant spirits,
and that bold ruby pendant
worn so nonchalantly.
The aftertaste of your name,
those four letters
each caressed reverently,
and spoken like a prayer
every single time,
lingers on my tongue.
And it is my favourite flavor.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words: Your name here

Monday, September 19, 2016

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Your voice heals

Ma! Papa!
Ablaze with fever,
like I am being cooked all over.
Yeah! I took the medicine
and made myself,
a light nutritious meal
but it doesn't taste half as good
as the palate you serve,
even with those mysterious
sour home remedies,
tonics and potions,
though bitter but far more effective.
More than that, your voice,
that heals me inside out,
an assurance,
that renews my soul and spirit.
And the comfort of
laying my head in your lap
listening to melodious chanting,
prayers to ward off all evils.
And of course,
falling asleep in your arms,
knowing that all will be
miraculously mended,
cured and made whole.
But there are miles that separate us
and for the time being,
I have to make do with your phone call
and knowledge that
I am in your prayers.
Ah! If only I were home
in your lap,
your hands stroking my forehead,
your soothing voice lulling me to sleep.
If only, I were not burning with fever ...

Thursday, September 8, 2016

Reclusively yours

Uncertain,
I dilly-dallied with your invite
until I could no longer postpone it.
And then too,
the reclusive me
accepted it most reluctantly.
I was so close
to not meeting you,
yet another stranger,
in that almost-date.
But as they say,
the universe conspired.
All my plans came to naught.
So yes! I met you,
despite misgivings.
But, the first time ever
I saw your face,
and held your gaze,
unknowingly,
I walked home, snug and cozy.
Sunshine gnawed away
at my winterly heart.
Now,
the spring tides engulf me.
And occasionally, an urge
to blend my name with yours.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words: Recluse

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

Rivulets

The piquant river
meandering and bending.
Like capillaries,
convulse, splash, erode.
Suchlike rivulets of love
course through our being.

Linking with Haiku Horizons: Bend


Monday, September 5, 2016

Pathway

Caught trespassing
on the path,
where the crossways convurged
in a dead end,
we coincided,
and then
rescued by fiery touch of desire,
took a detour,
carousing on serpentine,
tranquil trail,
with none but you.

Linking with Five Minute Friday: Path

Sunday, September 4, 2016

September night

In the quiet stillness
of September night,
I sit by my chosen spot,
soothed by the moist gentle breeze.
A tired neighbour makes his way,
slow and cautious,
as the street light has failed
for the umpteenth time.
A man pedals a bicycle,
secures it in the verandah
and locks the wicket gate,
turns around one last time
before switching off
the light in porch and
retreating to the safe insides.
The sentry on vigil,
visits periodically,
the staccato of his walking stick,
loud against the hushed darkness.
In such quiet and still
September night,
our laughter rings in air.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words: Quiet