Tag Archive | Desire

Sweet Box…

There it is, in earnest he exulted,
Atop the shelf…the scarlet box,
With silver ribbons braided,
Twirling around like curly locks.

Filled with jewels of deep desire,
’tis an object of taste profound,
The salve for a man’s ire,
He said, staring with affection abound.

Sweet memories carefully encased,
Reminiscing moments precious,
With the sweet of your love laced,
’tis emanates an aroma luscious.

A glimpse is what he craved,
Of the morsels of palatal pleasure,
Asleep softly and neatly cased,
To be awakened by a swift gesture.

Livid

Livid…yes,livid I am
to see thy sweet smile…
the blush on thy rosy cheeks
the sparkle in thy eyes…

The scent of thy perfume…
Vibrant like the morning sun dance,
Kindle the soul within…
Eliciting sparks of sweet romance

The swish of thy velvety tresses.
Send ripples of an intimate desire…
Gentle fingers kiss my cheeks…
Bringing to life the amorous fire.

Utterances from thy luscious lips,
Like holy chants, flutter the soul within…
As I migrate into an elusive trance…
Enamored by thy voice…enchanting.

Where hast thou been, me question.
As I gaze at thee with wonder…
Speechless, I search for words…
Lost in thy mazey beauty….I wander.

Ecstatic

twas in the arms of dawn…
Safe in a sweet embrace…
She lay in beauty profound…
Drenched in his sweet caress.

The softness of her face…
Is like the quill of a swan…
That glowed with divine radiance…
Enough to shame the autumn sun.

Her bosom heaved with passion,
Cuddled by the timorous brute…
He writhed to desire’s raging tunes…
As she played on his russet flute…

Like the dew on a rosette’s petal…
The nectar of his sweet love…
Trickled down her moist lips…
Pure ecstasy like the heaven’s above…

A Walk

Remember our walk during moonlit days,
By the side of the whispering river,
It’s crystal light on your face,
As our fingers did entwine and quiver.

Absorbed in your dreamy gaze,
I’d uttered words like a toddler,
Brushing past the grassy maze,
Into the white mist did we wander.

Timeless moments of sweet chatter,
Furthered the meet of our minds,
Leading to an idealistic banter,
Of politics and inane guidelines.

Remember how under the starlit skies,
We sauntered like the passive wanderer,
Following the trail of the fireflies,
Humming tunes with theatrical fervour.

Lost in the world of our dreams,
We heard none but our hearts beat,
Your warm caress was my realm
Our eyes locked in an amorous meet.

Cast Away

Time has stood still today,

Frozen with thy words, mocking,

Crude ‘n’ coarse than dried hay,

Spewing deep hate so shocking.

 

Etched hastily on this pasty note,

“I dost not any love for you”,

‘Twas a verdict you wrote

My life into shambles it threw.

 

Was I a tawdry plaything?

An article of fleeting pleasures,

Cast into the alleys stinking

An object worthy for beggars.

 

Sweet words of fancy passions

Thy promises of endless ties,

Were they mere pretentions,

Thee uttered in our love nights?

 

In faith my soul I pledged,

Surrendered to your free will,

Your wish with grace I obeyed,

Yet to befall this ordeal.

 

For thee I shall though wait

Through the eternal realm of time,

Destiny cannot but join our fate,

‘Cause the heavens know you’re mine.

I can draw

Aditya had always loved colours. To be more precise, colours had always intrigued or rather fascinated him. Whenever his eyes spotted something bright and colourful, he used to gaze at it with intense eyes amazed by their beauty. Red, green, blue, yellow, magenta, turquoise; be it any shade…for Aditya each of these were more than mere colours. For him, they were a manifestation of his inner feelings. A representation of the gift called Life.`

But in spite of his love for colours, somewhere deep inside Aditya used to feel sad. That is because he lacked the skill to draw and paint. “If only I could draw”, he used to say to himself. He used to watch the artists of his class etch fabulous pictures and fill them with all the colours.

“How wonderful! I wish I could create such beautiful pieces of work and show everyone. My parents would have been so proud of me”, he used to say to himself. Little did he know that his only wish was going to come true very soon.

During the spring of his 13th birthday, Aditya fell seriously ill. He suffered from high fever and was confined to bed. He had almost forgotten how to walk. For three months, Aditya was unable to attend school. One day as he lay on his bed, his eyes fell on some crayons and a sheet of paper that were lying on his table. He stared at them for a long time.

He called out to his mom and, when she came, asked her to hand over the crayons and paper to him, which she gladly did. He held the paper in his hand and looked at it intently. Then, as if in a daze, Aditya picked up the red crayon and started sketching on the paper. Fine lines started appearing on the crisp white sheet. After a while, Aditya stopped and looked intently. What he saw he himself couldn’t believe. There in front of him was the face of the person he loved the most…his mother. He had drawn his mom’s face.

An immense sense of joy filled his heart. Unable to control his excitement, he called out to his mom earnestly. She came running to his room all worried and asked, “Adi, what’s wrong? Are you ok?” He looked at her, gave a broad smile and said, “Ma, I can draw.”

Passion

Candid moments of love,

Creating waves of passion,

Crashed in the shores of my heart,

Sending ripples of obsession.

 

Feelings of untainted lust,

Like lightning struck deep within,

Stirring my wildest emotions,

Evoking my ravenous longing.

 

Insaned by wild fancies,

I stand before thee, unguarded

Lost in your deep eyes,

My soul to your will subjected.