Swooping on gradients and hairpin bends
When the sun sinks and softly descends
At a mellow pace in Heaven's wide arch
A thousand pines in the clouds' arms
...
The Bare Tree
In the chill of night, I stand and gaze
My boughs bare stretch and sway in haze
...
How beautifully she sings
and dances
Enticing people by
her prances
...
A bud encased, in sepals wrapped
Beauty's sleep, fragrance trapped
Gently touched by zephyr's waft
Rays warmed her folded heart
...
Sunday morning, I switch
on to the news app
to listen to the exclusive
news over a cup of coffee.
...
The howling winds, the biting chill
Of wintry nights reign vales and hills
All songs are ceased, trees in tears
Gone are all autumnal hues and mere
...
In the wee hours of dawn,
A melodic song alarm
Sweetly guides and leads me on
With a strange and sweet charm
...
The hush of the night is dark and deep
Raindrops falling ring through sleep
Silver dreams from heavens drop
And fall in the murk with a soft plop
...
Stones too have hearts, they speak
Talk, feel and when carved they bleed
They are treasure troves, books and tomes
They are palaces, pyramids, graves and domes
...
Dark, dark heavenly chocolate
Makes my heart leap up and fascinates,
I dream to live in a choco castle
Where choco boats and choco vessels
...
When I posted my first lines
Very unripe, just a few words,
Gleanings of thoughts some fresh
Some buried in yellowing pages
...
My Selfie
I write my selfie in quite truthful words
I think taking it only with a cam is absurd
...
The preface of the book of life
A cheery carefree write
In colours that spark and blush
The first chapters drowned in dreams
...
They met in a world without matter
Behind the screens smile and simper
Share their joys, sighs and tears
Forgotten passions, misgivings, fears
...
The phenomenon of two poles
That lie opposite to each other,
As goodness to evil, body to soul.
...
When I look into your eyes
Without a word and a sigh
I see a glimpse of wisdom and poise
The storm in the heart but no noise
...
In woods deep and dreamy blue
Boughs embracing, high and low
Disc of moon serene and soft
Like a gem from heaven’s loft
...
In the pitched darkness of night
When silence walks with heavy feet
The lantern of hope weaves its bright
Strands through the somber dark sheet
...
I live in a strange world. The music of my life has its own rhythm. I write from imagination and inspiration. The canvas has no limits and colors can be picked from a personal experience, childhood memories, a person, a movie, a novel, a symphony, a painting, a picture or any poem written by a favourite poet.)
The Hills Are Alive!
Swooping on gradients and hairpin bends
When the sun sinks and softly descends
At a mellow pace in Heaven's wide arch
A thousand pines in the clouds' arms
Swing and sway in welcome mists,
On glorious crests bend and twist.
Winds sing sweetly, airs are benign
And the city looks dreamy and shines
Like a starry plane far beneath me
As I look down the scary lee.
Soaring upwards in the mellow blush of day
A spot sparkles in the foggy dark and stays
Glowing on the lush peaks illumining grays.
Savory aromas float on the evening breeze
With melodies sweet they soothe and appease.
Beaming smiles, tinkling laughs trail
And ring in the quiet of peaks and vales,
Soft gales come forth to kiss the flowers
And gently tease the loose tresses,
Cheery cherubs romp and play,
Fairies in bunches and clothes very gay.
Down in the valley a hutch stands,
Figures move like ghosts on dreary lands
A faint light in the gloom of night
Bewilders the mind, a haunting sight.
But the life high above swings and thrives,
The hills are alive! The hills are alive!
Poet Yasmeen Khan One of the talented and gifted poet. Like Jasmine flower Keep on spreading the beautiful fragrance Through your wonderful poems. Thank you for beautiful comments for my poems. Continue writing and keep on adding wonderful poems to poetic world. Wishing you all the best! God Bless You!
jasmine is the name of a beautiful flower. ur poetry is just like this flowers, which have a fascinating fragrance which attract the other people by magic. ur poetry writing is a blessing of God. keep writing more and stay bless
Yasmeen is a spark hidden in ashes, whenever this spark is aired the flames rise to a great height and we get light in the shape of her warming poems in the coldness of this inhuman environment.
I feel exalted to read such words from a worty member. I am grateful to you.