MON AMOUR, PAPER

On the edge of a thicket, grow wild roses of the rarest damask hue

Glowing amethysts on olive green bushes when drenched in crystal clear dew

The aromatic rosebuds clammed close are nestled in my diary and tomes

Concealing whispers of gossip, passwords and also secret codes

Nostalgia of forgotten songs revive along with faded, distant dreams,

When a whiff of the musty parchment and old ink glides in like a toasty sunbeam

Blossoms of bluebells and petals of peonies

Adorn my journals with their withered, silken petals of lilac veins

Sprigs of laurel and rose-tinted orchids with their satin skeins

Envelop a scent of dewdrops, holding promises of lavender refrains

Stalks of mossy green remind me of wildflower meadows

The long walks in the Alps and valleys below

My poems waltz on these papers when I'm in seventh heaven or on cloud nine

Unbidden, melancholic tunes in my heart spill forth when I'm blue and not feeling fine

When chimes ring from the conifers and deep juniper woods

I deeply inhale their aroma on my musk-scented hardbound books

Burrowed between the pages are posies of fragrant magnolia and sakura

Stolen memories flow on a tapestry of rosemary-rhodora

The Lily pad shaped pages exuding a perfumed opera,

Regale me with wistful reminiscing any day, oh Mon Amour, Paper!

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

Pic Courtesy : Image by Ylanite Koppens from Pixabay

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Glinting sunlight off jeweled pools of sapphire Shimmering in the vast aridness of coppery fire Fringed with a viridescent canopy of trees fig and fronds of palm A sanctuary for birds and animals to splash about, it's a soothing balm Scorched and parched, my soles trudge on the sun baked grains Seeking respite from the bleeding crimson fireball, stranded I remain Mounting sand dunes, slipping, tumbling, sinking Scraped and raw, peeling sunburnt skin Veils of illusion lifts from fleeting dreams and hollow shine Fading hues of paradise around reduced to shriveled creepers and withering vines Imperial silver puddles on blazing bronze sand Deceived again by the phantom of the parched land Visions and charms swirl like a mist under a chrome moon Conjuring sprites of the desert weave mirages of oasis and lagoons Sailing across a barren horizon are walls of crystal waves No water lilies and wild roses unfurl under these mystic skies. ©️ Sangeetha Kamath Pic Courtesy: Pixabay

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TULIP-O'-PURPLE The flower you sent me stands tall in a vase of porcelain The bud clammed close concealing drops of rain It holds a promise of a lavender refrain The silken petals of webbed lilac veins The stalk a mossy green reminds me of meadows The long walks in the Alps and valleys below I conjure up woodlands and dappled sunset glow Purple is my favourite colour you always know The delicate bloom of sweet fragrance Reminds me of an amethyst of lustrous brilliance Swaying in the summer breeze it yearns for a dance A single Tulip in a vase takes a ballerina stance Blooming in full two days later Invites butterflies all aflutter As precious as a fairytale dream It is tinged at the tips in hues of clotted cream Purple is soon brown---a colour of wither... A hardbound diary is used to press and preserve Along with the card and cheri...

Sangeetha Kamath

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