Think Of It As Love
Think of it as
love as no more of it my vehement serene love, no more
Can I let the
decadal scintillation disown itself to the momentary water
Shallower in
depth with wicked potential to cast smother
On the entire
lit table spread between us on this inky candle-light evening.
Think of it as
love as I serve to you my deep-seated proclivity
In the contours
of your wishes to win over and over your appetite
For which I
chased the perfect sushi rice, vinegar, sugar, and salt
Blend of them
can make your rose-colored lips tickle the spoon.
Think of it as
love as I unfold before you an esoteric diamond ring
Preserved in my
comfortable fingers for swaying your wine red nails
Dipped in the
French kisses of reflecting rays turning me on the way
And I get
intimate for seconds again with a distant affaire.
Think of it as
love as I fill to overflowing the silent wooden floor
With musical
romanticism depicting freedom of vibrant emotions
In a flurry you
go away from me and near to the handmade wallpaper
Next to a
portrait of Diana and Henry all smiles and twinkling semblances.
Think of it as
love as I open the door of car to let you in with good reasons
None to
accelerate or disentitle you from a seat beside or behind me
All your
preferences are priced in zillions of venues we drove through
Riding off to
dwelling place protected by your graceful charity and goodwill.
Golden Tales
She walked in
dust full of ants,
Lifting dry
cow-dung,
Then pasting on
mud walls,
She repeated the
process,
Again the next
day,
With no stomach
filled breakfasts,
And only
leftover grains.
He observed her
for linear days,
Visiting the
village to make,
Impressed by her
courage,
Her loyalty for
land,
Stood in
determination,
To marry her one
day.
She disagreed
with the said,
Sell your land
or daughters,
Injustice was
meant in alternatives,
Don’t count on
anyone,
Greed and lust
is what they have,
But you will
escape in love,
Far away in a
forested land.
He called her
dear knowingly,
Telling her the
larger secret,
Near a den of
stones,
Hides a
passageway to far,
Tropical forest
with savanna around,
Safer for
everlasting survival,
As my instincts
are in sync,
With wild
animals who are pals,
Better than your
enemies.
The seduction
then began,
Vapors of
jasmine oil from loose curls,
Were absorbed by
his nostrils,
His bodily odor
swept her thigh,
Lay upon each
other like joined palms,
Complemented
hazel eyed contact,
The night
entered in arteries mixing in blood,
To blur the soft
whispers unto sensations,
Shuddering
litter brown packed earth,
Golden tales
originated of union,
Immutable till
they reached the greenwood.
In The Garden Of Insects
Scales of brown
tinge sticking in a row on all three sub-branches
Eat together in
passion the lower leaf surfaces and veins
Then show up the
aphids in green to suck sap of tender shoots and flower buds
Making strong
each other and the source weak and retard
The transparent
thrips save twigs dancing nearer
Burning with
ardor the surface attached to green stem
In dark and
steamy ambience whiteflies cuddle on a patch
Like an orgy
open for all to immerse in sex and firewater
Out of sight
leisurely spider mites suck discharge on webbed tendrils
And get vanished
in silver glistering of floating hedonism
Kinetic
leaf-miners dig deep inside the tissue layers
Creating a motif
bleached to pave colored stones of courtship
Amidst the
foliage and right at the pinnacle black dotted caterpillars
One on each milkweed
blade repeats snail-paced affectionate walks
A wholehearted
splendor is envisioned shyly in the garden of insects.
SONALI SHARMA
SONALI SHARMA belongs to
Dehradun, Uttarakhand, India. She is a post graduate in environmental studies
from Panjab University Chandigarh, India. She is also a published poet and
writer. Her poems have appeared in the Indian Periodical, Indian Ruminations,
Indus Woman Writing, International Human Rights Art Festival, New York, Kali
Project: Indian Women’s Voices, USA, Femasia, UK.
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