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I watch the feathered beauties
of ravishing plumes
flying from tree to tree
making shrill calls

How I wish
I could catch these birds,
the lovely deities of the woody groves
to cage their loveliness and melody
to own for myself
I  am a lover of birds ! Even as a child I used to follow bird calls!
Last night I heard the ocean
Serenade the moon
A song sung on lips of salty waves
Accompanied by the breath of
Soprano winds
A song of cerulean nights
And silver clouds
That crescendos with every
Crash of endless tides
And sounds like the cleansing
Of the Earth
I won't
let myself
fall for
you again,
I guess.
It started
when a
broken string
in your guitar,
caught my arm
and drew a line.

You mumbled
an apology,
yet we know
that was half a lie.

I pressed a finger,
then I added my palm,
but the pain didn't stop,
and you didn't either.

The white line had
turned to pink
until
red liquid
starts to
squirt.

The hours has passed
and the band
keep playing,
same with my
heart
that left
lamenting.

The long agony
is gone,
so does the red
in the line,
but the mark it left
behind
will stay,
together with
your red guitar
and the bridal
dress
I never get
to wear.*

(c) ForgottenDiety
A tribute to a friend, whom I will only see in dreams.
A few months I haven't called him

At the beck and call at any hour
And the shortest notice
A dial to him has saved many an emergency

Last night a broken female voice
On the other side of the wire
Mumbled he died on May 13

Left her with three daughters
At forty at short notice

The plumber is dead

Now who would clear
My choked wash basin

The plumber is dead
And I've no other number to call

I couldn't see her face
Gauge the faceless sorrow
At the other side of the wire

The plumber is dead

I must find another
And then rejoice
Forgetting the widow's choked voice
"Aren't you now tired of that green?
different from the zeitgeist once was
the ****** pulsation existed all along with me!
I can see it in the movement  of yours
when I  deep kiss you, not there, you are!
it's too long, our liaison, my love listen,
now it's time for a change, haven't you
seen the clouds in quick changing formations?
Yes, rest you need and a period of leisure
would do you good.You have to don a hue
to suit to to the mood, and yellow it is"
The setting sun,languidly to the leaf said aloud.
She felt the relief, she unhurriedly received
his words  purple tinted.pointing the direction.

The mountain wind, when the leaf  was green,
an intense lover, moved her,always.
A leaf callow and green in the wind,
passion personified, during the gale she was
the aggressive partner, demanding more,
"You are hanging here for long,on this branch,
knowing all, now time to let go, hear the music
permeating through dust and clouds and lives
transform yourself, you have danced enough
with me here, change pace, let go, begin
a journey new and find, what the cosmic hum
tells to every single cell, and what's in the end,
get ready to take newer forms from now on my love"

Wind took her by hand and she let go every thing
and naked to the soul, she jumped in to the deep below,
a valley, in ferment, flowers, fruits and leaves
in abundance, stood with bated breath,
beckoning, welcoming, cheering the fallen leaf,
the last dance it was,with the wind and sun,
in whispers the wanton wind told her" time to go,
feel light and explore, discover the secrets still left"

Earth, red and fertile was much pleased, smiled at her,
"Come down beloved, here I lie in wait, impatient,
this is your bed, not a minute late you are, here
as before in the appointed hour,you are aware
at any time you have to end up as the salt of the earth,
you'll love it here as much you did on a flowering branch,
bit by bit like the fragments of a cloud in blue sky,
you will become one with me; the fecund muddy earth,
new seeds with a vision encrypted inside will fall on you
get nourished by what your love donates and would sprout.
I am a pool in a peaceful place,
I greet the great sky face to face,
I know the stars and the stately moon
And the wind that runs with rippling shoon—
But why does it always bring to me
The far-off, beautiful sound of the sea?

The marsh-grass weaves me a wall of green,
But the wind comes whispering in between,
In the dead of night when the sky is deep
The wind comes waking me out of sleep—
Why does it always bring to me
The far-off, terrible call of the sea?
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