My heart longs for a figment of thy presence,
Thy absence absents from my life its very essence;
Mine smiles conditioned by thy mirth,
Thy frown mothers my sadness unto its birth.
...
The cry pierced the silence,
Tore a hole, in the invisible air,
Which in the face of things, was fair,
'Cept it came from this side o' th' fence.
...
O, can you hear the sunshine sing,
This happy morn in autumn?
Can you hear the zephyrs ring,
In your ears, as a wild flower in the grass, did blossom?
...
The clouds turn grey,
Inevitably, it starts to rain.
The sky's got a hepta-hued stain....
The wind- it decides to go astray.
...
Something is amiss here- no doubt:
I felt that right in the dankness of the morning-
(You know how the mornings are, these days)
Amiss- but nothing eerie, you know...
...
A place with fewer boundaries than even Communism might advocate,
Where absurdity becomes reality, making the latter, redundant, unreal-
Child of hope, grandchild of love- fantasy-
Where pink skies greet blue grass,
...
I am running out of verse,
Rhyme fails me-
The first time,
In times that were and are to be, -
...
Thunder-claps riot in the sky
A light drizzle flirts with the wind
Ancient waves torment the ready mind
That endeavours through poetry to reach a new high.
...