By Pratik Chowdhury
Impressions
Your echoing fragrance
windborne
quietly wafts in
with every pore
pulsating
I resonate
into an ensemble of
consciousness.
Dreams
Dreams have a way of sprouting
tender green leaves like
in spring shine time
they rustle down
autumn soft shadows slithering
down branches
in the warm
afterglow of evening sun
in the backyards of my
dreamscape
some lie low
like butterflies
broken bruised and crumpled
making little pools
of shadows…
In the cool shades
of your aanchal
bedewed petals
shower
desire blossoms
caress my being
as mist kissed
rhododendrons
in eventide
like fireflies at night
I erupt into
a thousand ecstasies.
Evening
An ember glow sun
on the forehead
with bedewed eyes
robed in silky sheets
of mists hesitant
bridal eve
yearns
the embrace of night.
1 comment:
These poems are soft, gentle.
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