[Before You Read - This poem is about something I was actually experiencing and the scenarios that were constantly getting created in my mind due to it.]
The green grass glazed in sunlight
And the leaves seemed yellowish bright
When the dark clouds began to fight
Raindrops were accompanied by thunder and light
When the Peacock spreads its colourful wings
......
I live in a pool of clouds
Treading through cirrus
Diving into cumulonimbus
I seek the light
The rays that break the gray
And paint the ground
And melt the snow
And warm my car
And heal my head
It's this light that makes a pool of the ocean
......
No stars, not even the moon risen-
Broken silence of the darkest night of June,
Rumbling, rattling sound; clouds ripen
Amid, to kiss the forehead of surging tune.
Slowly, slowly-the frozen wind blowing
As none to lull it; enough its to rage-
No rest, even unbridled its to mowing
No one save silva of the place, nor mage!
......
moving clouds, puffy
gold rose dawn fills waking skies
summer's honeyed days
as heat gains its peak
gilt clouds, noon butterscotch sky
lemon meringue pie
chocolate sunset
cocoa with soft marshmallows
......
deleted
Continue reading
Masses of creamy clouds give me pause, in sweetest summer,
as they drift away like honey dreams, in lazy days of slumber.
Radiant, world class travelers, changing colors like sun jewels,
sharing secrets, like winking stars, in mystic, creeping rituals.
Here today, gone tomorrow, like pink dragonfly, gilded by sun.
Maybe faces will soon be imagined, in forms, so like gold, spun.
Always they seem very near, from green mountaintop so lofty,
letting one have a glimpse of heaven, while enjoying a coffee.
Lavender and lace is oft seen at even, floating off to nowhere,
or perhaps to rest in mysterious, gemmed bedrooms in the air.
......
powder puff clouds laze
o'er fields of hued floral flame
mellow sun glimpses
deleted
Continue reading
No stars, not even the moon risen-
Broken silence of the darkest night of June,
Rumbling, rattling sound; clouds ripen
Amid, to kiss the forehead of surging tune.
Slowly, slowly-the frozen wind blowing
As none to lull it; enough its to rage-
No rest, even unbridled its to mowing
No one save silva of the place, nor mage!
......
It would be better if I met you in the clouds
In that place I can be longing you in the clouds penetrated by the brilliant orange sky
In the lack of oxygen, I can see that your face is blushing there; your beauty never fades even in black clouds
Everything in you is clear and there is no hypocrisy even though it changes from orange to blue sky
Your personality is there
The further fly into space the more I love you
Your name is also imprinted in the earth's atmosphere
While my name is clearly written on your white dress, the clearer up there I love you
......