Buried under sands, That were dreary and wind blown A jewelled hand springs. Distant blue its own, Deluged by the sandy surf, It still stayed afloat. .
Spin, New Dreams, Twine phantasms, Tendrils of hope, Iridescent hued, An ivory tower, An arcadian world glows, No longer an idyllic lair, But my eyes yearn to drink it all in, A variegated kaleidoscope.
If tomorrow comes, It will be, A harbinger of things new, Ushering in an ardent hope, Unearthing a cache of hidden dreams. If tomorrow comes, It will write new stories, Etching the leaves of time, Erasing the tales of yore, That mean no more. If tomorrow comes, It will heal old wounds, Festering animosity, Now… Continue reading If tomorrow Comes
A song, Euphonious, Lilting,stirring,blending, Spreading tranquility unfeigned, A bliss.
Deep in my dreamy slumber I heard, A symphonic melody play, It flowed around so untamed, Traipsing on vernal branch, Waltzing along buds, A fragrant burst, Melody, Real, Pure.
The power of pink, A cynosure so brazen, Yet love radiates. A very Happy Women's Day to all of you. A salute to the Pink Brigade.