They abandoned the midnight garden,
For the sake of
Warm softness of a bed.
Two chairs are now sitting alone
Under the silent celebration of stars.
Crystal beauty of wine glasses is lying
On beige linen of the table.
Some unheard words as white as doves
Had oozed from the corners
Of their intoxicated lips.
Now chariot of wind
Is carrying them out of the earth,
For engraving
Those romantic letters on the
Black mountain of mischievous moon.
A beautiful poem full of your 'romantic imagination' Sanjukta.. A delightful read and a great write...
Now chariot of wind Is carrying them out of the earth, ..Very interesting imagery is drawn here with expressive emotion. Fantastic poem shared really...10
The softness of a bed; after the ways of the night. Nice work.
Great imagery........And I am reading all those romantic letters written on black mountains.......Wonderful poem SN...This beauty cannot be described in words...Loved it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
exotic my mind is flying like a free bird