Dormiveglia

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An imbrication of stares and blinks,

my nights have become a reverberation

of your whispers’ lilt.

As I swing back and forth

past my gossamer cloudland,

I envisage how it’d be like to float with

you through the hourglass of sand.

 

The demesne which I used to call mine

has now become your territory.

Trespass all you want, but shush,

you tread on my sleep.

 

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Realization

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Each day rolls by, with my hours

pivoted around you. I wonder when it was I

imbued you in me.

Was it when I floated through elation with your wit in air

or when I was spellbound by the mirth

you splurged on me.

 

I can’t help smiling as I realize,

darling, you had me at hello.

 

The Road Not Taken*(with a little twist)

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When two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

I took neither. I built my own trail

amidst the thorns and conifers

donning my rebel snood.

 

Sprinting fierce, stamping the bushes

I lacerate dead ends.

Staring at the syzygy, I progress

to find destiny’s dividends.

 

I didn’t take the roads previously travelled

to stand ahead of the crwth.

Going harsh, doing rash,

they say I’m drunk on youth.

 

* A well-known poem by the legendary poet Robert Frost.
Youth– The Daily Post prompt

Deserts Versus Humans

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The amorphous sand dunes on the chest of desert

Blemishing its soul superficially, causing fugacious scars

Then comes the confused wind, dispersing the gold grains

On the scratched heart, thus panacea rains.

 

Unlike the exteriors of desert, human hearts have iron-crusts

The wounds don’t erode, with time they only rust

Slowly crumbles the shell , and deeper seeps the hurt.

They gulp down misery, but keep the face robust.

 

Life would have been much easier

if human scars too were easy to dust.

 

Confused– The Daily Post prompt