January 19, 2016

THE ROSE BUD c.1994











Set your fodder widest
Like an ocean of yellow poppy field,
On an orange farm
That once ruled
The mazes of my dreams.

Here I stand,
A smirking child
Lost in the underground caves
Where I set my Indian soul free
Always upon your magnificence.

You offer me your oriental meal
Flavored with salted tenderness,
Laced with diamonds of
Hopes and promises.

When you tamed a whispering storm,
The moon was a scarlet fire.
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