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.
THE ROSE BUD c.1994 THE ROSE BUD c.1994 Reviewed by Yusop Masdal on January 19, 2016 Rating: 5

No comments:

When The Dead Came Marching In

There was one fish story that brought me to the very ends of the world it seems, so far away that running water does not exist and a paved ...

Powered by Blogger.