A bushel of white light,
Opens wide,
To let in some more –
The gatekeepers of goodwill,
They shine down,
With ever-resplendent warmth.
Month / August 2024
Poke
Like a doll in a box,
What is wedged in between
Won’t find its way out,
Unless it’s nudged
By a certain someone,
Or a certain something.
Trysts
To all the loves
And the loves beyond,
A signature step bound your way
A moment’s reflection
Has far-reaching implications ,
Along with a flair,
For the collector’s art.
Set aflame
The highs and the lows,
Of mountain tides galore,
Paves the way for something more dramatic –
Goofy personas,
Their sunny outlooks,
Trailblazing through the plenty horizons.
Weaver
Flowing,
And guarded,
The prose started dwindling.
A barrage,
And a milieu
Of unspoken words –
Tired minds,
Unwavering joy.
Words
Where our roads meet,
And where our roads end,
Can only be the voice of a supreme love.
To forge connections,
And to form bonds,
Forms the baseline,
Of all creative endeavours.
Sweet nothings
The best time of the year,
When the grass is green,
And the heat shallow –
Wind in the face,
And joy in the heart,
A testimony of things to come.
A Sight into My Psyche 