He devoured every inch of her skin

But reached nowhere close to her.

© wordpolitics.


I love to sit and observe:

A bare tree shying away it’s nudity.

As the buoyant breeze ruffles around

In an early Autumn morning

Teasing it with its sweet caress.

© wordpolitics.

The White Mistress

Deep inside the thickets of a dense forest,

is an old Banyan tree.

The night enveloped in darkness,

a strangling silence pervades through.

There he stands ; with arms open wide,

longing to embrace his love.

Waiting to be chaperoned in her arms.

The fog rises up,

slowly devouring the night into bleakness.

He opens his eyes,

struggles to cut through the dense fog.

A faint silhouette of his lady love

is all that he beholds.

The hooting owl,

the howling of the wolves.

Charges in the bellowing wind.

Locks unkempt floating in the air,

swivels around in a maddening sway.

The fog disperses shaking with ague,

it’s wise to flee than witness her wrath.

Once it is clear, the tree feels her near.

She walks down the aisles,

with stars parading her through.

Her long white train ruffles around,

casting her beam in the darkness around.

His eyes fill with tears,

The dying ember breathes again.

With trembling voice,

he calls out his love.

She gazes at him,

fair maiden in white.

Whose beauty surpasses

what beauty is writ.

Leaving the ethereal realm,

she glides towards him.

Under the blanket of the blue,

their bodies entwine.

The cool breeze whispers the songs of love;

The fireflies dance around,

celebrating the union of two.

They share words of love,

his arms wrapped around her.

This one night in a month,

he holds it so dear.

Withstanding the heat and the whips of the rain,

he has earned this sweet moment,

what else does he care?

The night passes by with the twink of an eye,

She starts feeling weak ,

with the crack of the dawn.

With a heavy heart she smiled at him,

for she knew twas time to leave.

The tree started to panic,

he tried to hold her tight.

With each attempt he realized,

she was slipping from his grip.

Her beams began to fade, fainter it grew,

for a wicked force pulled her back to her abode.

He screamed her name, flood of tears

less visible to his eyes she grew.

Until at last a splash of light,

blinded his eyes too soon.

And by the time he gathered his sight,

she was abducted by the light.

The cursed tree

writhed in grief,

another cruel month to wait.

Till then he will wait counting the days,

with arms that lay outstretched.



A cold night,

the weeping willows.

The fireflies,

the lake that’s shallow.

The old tree that’s glaring up,

yearning for his mistress love.

The soft breeze that whistle’s low,

the dancing leaves footing slow.

In the fade the hooting owl,

sings the chorus gathered hounds.

My soul there sits observing these,

I close my eyes Eternal Bliss.