the golden feather...

sitting along the sandy shore
clad in long flowing white silk
fitted with golden beads many
laces of white,my wedding gown
my hair let down,free to sway
in the breeze so soft and cool
the saline sprays from the sea
the waves lashing on, in glee
the salty scent ever so fresh
staring across the horizons at bay
i ponder on,dwelling into eternity...

the gale so soft and cold,misty
stroking my face,calming my senses
i gently close my eyes,shuting away
the roars of fun,all around me today
a gentle drop of tear seems to melt
from the icecaps of pain in my soul
and i try hard to fight the tears off
glaciers to melt,and the sun scorching
i try to encase my soul in a casket
wrapped with my smiles so hardly done
the casket of pain buried deep in me...

the gale gave a puff too strong
the waves lashed onto the rocks
where i sat calm,drenched to the core
eyes still closed,thoughts burning
and i felt a tender touch on my face
a warm and soft touch so dear,ever
a silken touch on my cheeks,so tender
and i felt you were still here,never gone
still with me,ready to take the vows
and my eyes sprang open,a tear drop too...

and i saw a soft little feather,golden silk
i saw it fly eastwards,carrying my tears
and i felt once again,the feathery touch
the touch of my love,departed in a haze
the touch of love,of time and all yours...

the crimson in my hands...

the fierce golden red
ever so brightly lit
i felt itself burn,
burn my soft skin
with its touch,
the touch of red!

i found the crimson
dripping away
into my hands
as i held my hands
a cup,across horizons
the sun in my hands!

the breeze lofty
the waves crashing
music filling me
scent of sea gushing
and my cupped hands
held above my head!

the sun on a fast pace
to sink down,deep
into the seas,a slumber.
i tried hard to hold on,
moving my hands in its pace,
i tried my best to make it stay!

alas! the gold and red
dropped off from my hands
into the sea,with a splash
and i felt the warmth strike me
walking back in the dark
my hands still shining,a golden hue!

Dried palette

I held a chart of paper, a canvas,
White as snow, as smooth as silk,
I found the two sides ever so same,
No print or feel, to distinguish the fair!

I looked on deep, senses sharp,
Wondering where to stroke my brush,
The canvas was all ready to be set,
Yet, I didn't know the fair side to paint on!

A palette of colour, ready to splash,
Images galore, ready to transform,
Into pieces of art, deep from my soul,
Born with wings, to each one, a new image!

Time flicks by, as if in a daze, a race,
And, I still remain, ever so wonder struck,
Where do I touch my brush of colours,
Where do I find the clue to perfection..?

My silken touch, artistic a blend, so pure,
Cartwheel of time spins ahead, yet again,
And, I realize, I could paint either sides,
The canvas, i finally saw, in a new light!

To dip my brush onto the colours, vivid,
I chose the ink of life, green as the sprouts,
Touching the brush so special, into the green,
I realise with a pang, the paint ever so dry!

Waiting to clear off the many mundane thoughts,
I lost the beautiful images in my soul, the colours...
One long wait... and I lost it all... lost all hues, all shades,
I lost the one stroke of brilliance, that could have been...