The Missed Moment

As I look back, taking stock of each moment

Linked one to the next, to form a chain called Time

A sack we choose to fill with baubles and beads

Like children, we forage the woods of life

Gather tiny stones, believing them to be precious

Call them memories, souvenirs

Collected while travelling, from birth to death.


One such pebble, I have often tried to throw

Again and again into the river of Time flowing ahead

Somehow the pebble finds its way back into my heart

And nestles among the tiny rocks in my sack

This time I take a closer look

At the tiny pebble which refuses to leave

I see a face, your face lit up with love

Love for this little bud that I was

Love so powerful, to awaken the woman in me

Slowly I transformed into the passionate rose.


For days I waited, for the honeyed kiss

The dewdrops from your lips

I longed for them to be planted on my petals

I shook and I shivered

When the winds of your love

Swept me off my stem, my roots.

Alas, it never came, the kiss

Which would have made my fragrance sweeter

Which would have made my petals

A deeper, richer crimson

The kiss intoxicating everything around me

It never came, I blame my own thorns.


The pebble comes back, will never sink

Into the profound deep of Time river

It comes back, not choosing to become oblivion

But rather a reminder of sweet moments

Of lips quivering with passion and desire

Of the innocent first kiss, that never came to be……


Copyright ©2019angelbeamsblog

Painting by Michael Cranford Beach stones in shape of heart, Fine art america

Homecoming

The day dawns near when you come home

Come home to your dwelling place

Somewhere within me, a space so pure

A sacred space where clear waters flow gently

Calmly, eternally, washing away scars and wounds

Gathered along the voyage of life.


A voyage we undertook, each choosing our own way

Still we could see the way of the other

Through the looking glass, that thin wall of separation

Oftentimes I see and feel

What you yourself fail to realize

I perceive your heaviness, the fruits often bitter

As you sow the seeds of the same weeds

Sown by countless men chain-bound

Who struggle to bind even tighter those around.


Could you see me through the looking glass?

As I naively allowed a hundred loves

Into my altar, sacred, reserved for you

But the clear waters of the spring within

Scorched them all, reaching boiling point

On touching the tainted mockery pretending to be love.


We try not to hear the hidden plea for love

In the words we hurl at each other

We try not to see the love in our eyes

Hidden behind the veil of indifference

I desperately try to breathe in your essence

From your presence behind the looking glass

I can see the road stretching ahead of you

I see it, converging eventually with mine, to my doorstep.


Copyright ©2019angelbeamsblog

Picture : Aline at the gate. Pierre Auguste Renoir paintings reproduction

Your Kisses

Put your lips against mine

To be crushed and blended

Into a concoction of wine, tears

And the essence of our souls

Breathe the kiss, this unique aphrodisiac

Ascend to the dizzying summit of spiralling sensations.


Your lips, a divine fruit gifted by the love-God

Offering contradictory pleasure

As they whisper velvet words which sink

Into the softness of my heart

Cooling the heat of a passion already aflame

Yet they burn trails of love on my skin

Scorching their way, firing up the cold recesses

Of a soul numbed by eons of solitude.


Your kisses, where did you learn the art

Of burning and freezing your beloved

Within a shell of timelessness, spacelessness

Drunk with this aphrodisiac

The inner world takes on a different nature

Thrown into this world I enjoy

The chords composed of my own vibrations

I realize your lips tune them

To match the ethereal music beyond.

Picture : Pinterest.com

Lovelorn hearts

Like the lone star, scintillating quietly

Too shy of proclaiming her love to the moon

She knows that it’s her destiny

For he’s not yet ready to reciprocate her love

Wait she must patiently, till the divine moment

When his heart becomes full and whole

Luminous, glowing, enveloping her being

Making her vanish into his creamy peach light.

Like the lone star I wait

For the love in his heart to rise to his eyes

The signal that his whole being is aware

The sign that he’s become the full moon.


Like the water lily, waiting for twilight

To dream of her lover, in the melody of the silent night

Sending streams of love from her bloom

To an unknown lover, waiting beyond

Hoping to send a frisson to his heart

To wake up his dormant love, rightfully hers

Like the water lily I gaze at the dark sky

Sending my thoughts out to call upon my love

To awaken a spirit in blissful slumber

It’s time, to embark on a journey of the unknown

To discover the pleasures and perils of a feeling

That for which every human is born.

Love letters



Love letters, love-filled wisps of white,

Floating in the endless sky

Water-vapours of feelings

Emanating from your throbbing heart

Condensing into thick clouds

Travelling great distances, to pour out your love

Into me, as I stand drenched in the downpour.

Love letters, in the form of butterflies

Flitting from one bloom to another

Hues of love streaming from your eyes

Painted on their wings lending them unmatched beauty

I listen closely, as they flutter their wings

To whisper your heart’s messages to me.

Love letters, written on parchments of leaves

Etched with the love pouring from your heart

They ride dangerously on heady currents of water

Rush excitedly to deliver your message

Standing by the mad silver brook

I collect these little green lovenotes with greed.

Kisses full of love, flying from your lips

Misty with the heavy scent of your passion

Now the gentle wind offers to play messenger-boy

Promising to deliver each one of them

Without fail, as I stand mesmerised in the high cliff.

Each element of nature loves a love-story

Each element loves to play cupid

Each pebble, each stone, craves to carry love

To fulfill the yearning of aching hearts.

Copyright ©2019angelbeamsblog

Picture courtesy Pinterest, Victor-Gabriel Gilbert

“A Young Lady Writing a Letter”

Floating Feathers

floating feathers

 

Two white feathers, blowing from nowhere

Dancing in the air, total surrender

To the fancies of the wind

Each with a story to tell

Of precious moments in a journey, of tears, of smiles.

 

Blown from nowhere, but brought together

By a Providence whose purpose an eternal mystery

But still they decide to get along

And dance they did to the music of the wind

Two white feathers they be.

 

The synchrony, the harmony, the grace of a dance

Unique, yet danced a million times

By lovers of yore, since a time stretching behind

One that all living creatures in love

Yearn to dance, wired in their being.

 

The pure joy of merging, molding and entwining

Of becoming one, with their tiny hearts fusing

At times separating, stretching, floating lazily

Still held together by that tiny strand of love

A dance so rapturous, so joyously they do.

 

The whole cosmos submerged in heavenly music

The chatter of the leaves, the thud of falling fruits

Adding rhythm and rhyme to the lover’s song

A petal flew from afar, swayed to their tune

Then flew off in search of its own mate.

 

Then the wind grew tired, stopped her singing

The two floating lovers stunned to stillness

Dropped down to the earth, lying off each other

On the harsh ground, along with stones and thorns.

 

When the wind blew again off they floated

But as strangers, not wanting to create again

The heady whirling of a passionate dance

Each in their separate ways, yawning

Not bothering to wave goodbye

Two floating feathers, blowing to nowhere.

 

Copyright ©2018angelbeamsblog

Photo Pinterest.com