Make me believe

a multitude of leaves yellowed and dried

with a finger on lip

a few bit their tongue tip

doomed to be crushed, silently they lie

or am I deaf? No, none of them cried;

seasonally promised of rebirth-

they believed

so are we? we are parched and dried,

plucked from our hives, tired of our fights

flown off to faraway lands- barren and bare

no roots to provide refuge and no touch of care

will we ever bloom again?

do we deserve another shower of rain?

make me believe we do

I will bloom, I long for you.

To believe is not about what you think is right. To believe is to hang on to something you wish to exist.

To believe is to hope.

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What shall I write to you?

What shall I write to you, is there something you do not know?

What you breathe out is what I breathe in, is this how love grows?

What shall I read to you, is it my vocals that you desire?

Tuned to my heart rhythms, how you decipher my mute eyes on fire ….

Siege me, I am taken in your spell of us or have I been darn mistaken?

Your sweet touch lures me, I am a drooping sunflower so sun-forsaken ….

What shall I give to you, is it the tarnished me you long for?

I yield myself to you and will do, a word to you I give, if not more …..

©Written Frames, 2018

Not that I often write about you, but when I do it is always a poem.

Deluge

what are eyes without any light,

if not in love?

If not dreaming?

I am soaked in my bed

imbued with darkness all around

such is the roof I know

that cannot have my wanderings bound

there I see many suns rising

and many a moon does shine

eternal sprouting of yearning and ache,

satiates as a day breaks into infinite

the days we have spent,

and, yet a life to spend with you

singular is my love for you

with multitude of hues imparted

sky of my skin brims of love and rain

there rainbows gleam un-thwarted

rapacious is the deluge of my desires

thinking of you, longing for you

lower your embankments as I knock

as your heart echoes, ‘I love you too’

embrace me whole

drenching you, quenching you…

©Written Frames, 2018

Love and dreams know no bounds. It wanders in quest of passion and perseverance.

Blame the Wind

Is it too pestering on my part;

So to dream and demand?

Such sweet wafts of boding wind,

To carry my terribly trepid lips

Mounted on wings of a dainty dove,

Settling on your lips with love

Unreproved purveyors of touch,

Excuses of love are such

Playful stunt of innocent eyes,

Clueless of uncharted breaths, we spy

For clues of implicit queries posed,

Blame the wind for your heart, thus exposed

Blame the wind for the blinds are drawn

Love is blind and we are its ocular pawns

Phantom Embrace

shards of my hospitable heart,

is broken or amputated?

with tempt of trust or deficient?

yet a yearn to serve thine abode

mirrors the whole you, smiling

in multitude of my pieces ….

I sense the whir of a saw,

between the serrated ends, my defense clawed?

ambush of the vulnerable, my wit mowed?

piercing pinches shook me bad

vanity of trials to revive the lapsed,

behold the cupid cast a liminal arm instead,

caress my longings, an embrace widespread …..

forever, fondle thy fingers upon my eyes

move along the curves, trace my neck line

shiver and shudder of the lips asunder

breathe stars to this ebony night of wonder

shaping constellations in favor of mine

I embrace myself,

with arms belong to thine,

we homogenize……

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The urge

Faithful convulsion of yesterday replays its rumble
Your mahogany colored lips singe my heart of today
Eyes submit in romance with inflaming orange blush
The smile left on my lips has a sweet scent of you
My oceans dribble of you. I am thinking of you.

Often I do,
I trace the anfractuous trajectory from your eyes to lips
Stealing the moment from my memory of enigmatic bliss
A timeless captive of the grip that had my tongue seized
Look at me, I look at you with thwarted breath of dawning spring
O dear, do you discern my desires confabulating tomorrow’s kiss?

Drink the urges out of me

Though every moment is complete in itself, some are sought to be happening again and again ……

Written Frames

Fleeting Emotions, perpetual words.

Longing