Meandering thoughts………..


unrequited love

No Escape


The buzz of people chatting

the honks of the carsNO escapethe busy schedule in the concrete jungle

fail to drown your thoughts

The chirping of crickets

the earthy smell that intoxicates

the sweet mountain breeze that kisses me

the silence of the valley that seduces

fail to drown your thoughts…




The endless conversations through the night

that healed the rip in my heart, dried up the tears 

wish I could carve them in stone,

the gentle brush of your fingers trailing down my arms

I feel it thousand fold on my sensitized skin

my lock of hair that gets tucked by those magical fingers

trail my forehead again and again

so that I can feel that tenderness anew

the sinewy arms that keep me prisoner

willingly I sojourn in that tender manacle 

that makes me feel secure

the sensuous lips that discovers the

planes and valley of my nape stay there till eternity

wish I could capture these moments for aeons to come,

the heart that listens to my confused ravings

continue to listen so,

the mind that guides me to 

understand the cosmos that is beyond me

continue to do so without duress,

memories safely tucked  away endure

as I have promises to keep.







Love in a tear drop……

tearsI used to laugh when people say

love is pain it makes you pay.

I wake  up with the thoughts of him

and my eyes on its own accord brim

Heart flutters as it recognised

that this love is not desired

gazing at the stars over our shoulders

we sat on the boulders

  looking at the pearly white moon

even a cup of poison would have been a boon

with steps that matched we walked

only to part at the forked path

Sakhe why did you come into my life?

To leave it barren and my emotions in strife

If only I could gather all the love that I  feel for you

in a tear drop and caste away like the early morning dew

My sakhe 

If only I could gather all the love that feel for you

in a tear drop and caste away like the early morning dew



Quite was her life

as the still night

as the still daffodils

even during the stormy night–but

the fancy came by

she was not more than the weeds

swaying in the gentle breeze–

the breeze doesn’t last longer and 

the fancy passes by

never heard of again

miles and miles away

she is a sad pierrot 

waiting for kindness.







Blog at

Up ↑