Seema joglekar Poems

Every bud does dare, as the effort
It took to lie closed shut,
Was more painful than to blossom it took,
The dawning of a new world, right out of plain dirt,
...

Let the name I call you by-quilt the torment raked,
By those scattered years; its charm like encircling arms,
Round them up in a glorious moment.Its sound -purge
Richoetting silence of the heaviest hour of many an idle day,
...

Now, let the orb mock the corroding years that have given up,
The undertones of their diatribe, trying to stand between us,
Tear a gash in night's garb, throbbing not over its bygone ache,
But like the flushing cheeks of a bride, prod the blossoms awake,
...

SONNET TO THE VIGILANTE!
My quiet vigilante, returns for a few stolen glimpses,
Like the casket of treasures on the horizon, before light vanishes,
Content with the approachable distance and suspense,
...

After the fit of mango showers,
Hill & dale fume in cold sweat,
Lifting aromas off the ground,
Sun hurls a beehive at every head.
...

The landscape -ascending azimuth, the azure sky lifts
The encircling curtains, of blue veil of vertigo,
Like a green floral skirt, fine open grass spreads in tribute, below,
In between stands the flat-topped Acacia tree
...

Bless my little heart!
Fortune kissing your forehead, it has drawn you to me,
To clasp you to my heart, over a hundred stormy seas,
Till Love and Strife have together yielded their all,
...

On a cheerless sandy expanse,
They walk like among dew-washed meadows,
Adorned with pink lotus ponds,
And dull scrubs melt into woods,
...

The magic of myriad charms and spells did woo the heart to action and words, tender as dew and so very few, to keep alive to realize a promise. Love spent in wait with a heart in spate, unmindful of the clamber up the hill or the toss in foam.
Looks, sighs, gestures, glances all lent an eager hand, till woven words the progress of love could find, the fearless confidence that comes to your ardent call, to tread on higher course willed by destiny to stand tall.
And life's mature friendship gains fruition in autumn's plenty, weaving unseen bonds of union with our wishes, our tastes and our joys all alike, to strike the same chord in each heart. Till you see the hour that bore a lifetime with the desolate sweeping of the scythe of Time, in the lingering eloquence of love.
That hour has come, rise and be seen, and reach for a lifetime distilled in a second, to keep a promise over all else.
...

A tree that squanders, butterflies in cloaks so thin,
The wave that leaps or the fire that blazes,
Each makes no cause to win.
Every now and then I take a leap of faith,
...