My swelling desires surge,
Though shapeless as a gust,
For a bower of their own
Where colours shall bloom
To adore and adorn
That essence of her being
Which the eyes never grasp
But flashes like a splash
In summer's cool streams
And breathes through my soul
The fragrance of flight
Of birds that weave
In twilighted sky
Rainbows on wings
That sparkle and melt.
My words are all I have
To plant these unsown dreams
Which once may bloom and sing
In tune my unsung plea
For her who wont hear
What I wouldn't dare.
8 comments:
Worth the wait,in all 'senses'.A perfect beginning to the creative year and after a long time another sensual Keatsian poem is born of you.Intense and awesome.
We only have our words. Nice write.
Beautifully expressed poem of yearning and hope, Abin. Words indeed can plant dreams..and do, and sometimes they DO bloom.
A very passionate poem, Abin.
OH! I wanted to grab the main character and tell him, "Dare! Dare!" I guess that means you pulled me completely into the intent of the piece. Well done!
very nice poem Abin - have nothing much to add to what's been said but wanted to tell you how much I liked what you've written ...
Yes, dare!! I especially love "the rainbows on wings" of the birds of twilight. Glorious image!
Greetings: Excellent Blog.
Happy Happy New Year.
Best Wishes for the year of 2012…
Your contribution is always welcome!
Lots of blessings and cheers sending your way.
See you soon.
xoxox
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