Serendipity

Twinkling eyes,
They touch and smile;
Lips always have muddled pain.
May be she also burnt in rain.

He was a vagabond,
for his fate bantered;
Souvenirs of his broken heart;
Squandered like past season's greeting cards.

When they met and
laughed with muffled giggles,
Sore hands caressed wounds and tickled.

Lost was time;
Thoughts left barren.
His essence in her myrrh; her vision in his gaze;
Their love was baked in alluring blaze.

Angels smiled,
for the broken heart bits melt;
and reformed into an elegant diety,
As heavens cried "Serendipity".

--NERVES--

A stupid sense has caught me in.
My legs have frozen up with this din.

A horn just blast up and a vehicle passed;
I tremble backwards, I am not so fast.

The “Nerves” have caught me, froze me still,
The fear has revolted against the will.

The highway is dark; now only that I can see,
The headlights seem to cast silhouette over me.

And I know I have it in me to get over par,
But every try is resisted by invisible bars.

I know these bars are nothing but the “NERVES”,
Hidden inside the brain; under these muscular curves.

Just for a second if I can shove up my verves,
Burst with all intent and crush up these paralyzing nerves.
I will be on the other side of this highway.
Just a burst! Or for too long here I have to stay.

The Rose and the Nightingale....

It was a sweet summer, with shining raindrops,

The streets were Barren, without any mobs;

In this season of love,came upon a nightingale;

In a garden lavishly holding,drops on flowers like spangle.

The Nightingale came flying, from far off lands,

Had traveled through mountains,rivers and sands;

The bird felt tired, so rested on a tree,

Sang a melodious song, which spell bounded everybody;

Every leaf applauded the song, as did every flower,

The praise inspired her and she sang with all her power.

In the midst of these there was a white rose,

That it was prettiest of all, everybody supposed;

The nightingale opened its eyes after the song,

And saw the white rose among the throng;

In the first sight the cupid struck.

The nightingale saw the beauty dumbstruck.

The love bitten Nightingale, went to the rose,

Holding true love in her heart,to him she proposed;

The Rose in his pride and arrogance,

Did not heed to the bird’s plight;

Instead told the bird that he’ll love her,

When from the dull white he will become reddish bright.

She looked to the rose with the tearful eyes,

And with a smile surmounting painful sigh

Embraced the flower hurriedly,

tearing her body with the spikes & winning the bet,

As everyone saw the blood oozing out of nightingale's body,

that had made the flower red.

The rose saw the pure & unselfish affection of the bird,

and cried like he has gone mad,

As the bird has filled his heart with love,

but in front of him, on ground, she lay dead.

Every passing day, the rose cried of this woeful crime,

And never let anybody touch him in all his life time;

This is just not a heart wrenching story,

but an eternal love tale

Of the white rose and his beloved,

The Nightingale.

DRENCHED

Numb fingers and wrinkling skin;
Soaking in water for too long it seems.

The drops run over from back of ear;
From the lids they slither akin tear;

The bullets shoot on the limbs;
To endow with sopping up hinds;

I am wet; and the winds pierce sans pain;
Skin wriggles beneath the shroud of rain;

I lower the face and take the shots;
The hidden memory reverts to the knots.

And we were there under that sudden burst;
But our faces are dim; Reminiscence with rust;

Shuddering under the winds we laughed;
I was soaking but had you in my arms.

So much rain but we never got quenched;
And now these drops got me drenched.

The memory again blurs;
Shadows creep up in memory whirls;

But your shimmering voice, it still rings;
To my memory your smile still clings.

But everything else is blurred;
A grey hue to everything colored.

Back here; with thrashing rain I align;
Withered under the pour; I wait for sun to shine.