In these landscapes
guarded for centuries
by the long arms
of the impressive ‘pipals’
my toes scribble new meanings
over the velvet rugs
of the decent thighs.
My nose prods
the aroma of moments,
blendth well
with the garden of memories
bestowed on me
decades back.
Here the birds whirl high
from the blanket feet
to the shoulders stout
beneath the wisdom
of the ochre arrogance.
Butterflies collect life
tapped in the sprinkled droplets
and the magical spindles
of the green tresses.
Unabashed
my passions climb high
over the arched scapes.
Toes dig the trenches
to strengthen the foothold.
Tumbled locks
hide the bruises of my misdemeanor
and raise the pinnacles
of the passions untold.
hmmmmmmm-- control your passions-- hide the bruises of your misdemeanor --nice write Prof.Thakur regards anju
I guess you enjoy the hills and the nature around... As your poem speaks, how much you adore your place. Good work again sir.
beauty of a poem blended with fruits of thought...............
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well crafted poem.Nice to read..