Just A Handful Of It Poem by Kamal Prashar

That tiny shell of sea she sees
Sits comfort on grains of sand
A glowing color of honey from trees
A wish she made for a lift in the hand

Stayed she still an admiring gaze
A wish to possess with a great desire
Alas, my precious ways with a blaze
Trembled that hand with a blink of fire

A murmur's sail, her soul it breezed
Echoed it past her heavenly fears
A look aloft her shoulders teased
A ransom of love those torturing years

Were shadows, were thoughts or words in a jar?
Were moons of days or the crystals of eyes
His palates of love do stay but far
That surge of faith but no glorious cries