Waves

 

In the morning shine and in the moonlight,

sometimes sombre, sometimes gay- the waves roll.

The varied moods of this frothy delight

stroll back and forth with the wheel of control.

The deep sea harbours mysteries never told,

but often the waves spill them on the shore.

And soon as the secrets unfold, twofold-

the waves are eager to explore some more.

As in the ocean we swing and wither,

oscillated by fate and its dry tune.

And like waves we go hither and thither

in search of eluding joy and fortune.

The sun will shine, the waning moon will glow-

cycles of waves shall stimulate the flow.

Advice

 

I am laden with advice 

by those who seem worldly wise. 

These men are loaded with vice 

yet are keen to analyse. 

They use the well used adage,

and plant the seed unneeded.  

Alas! this sprout of knowledge

is better left unheeded. 

Sweet and eager to express-

sour the fruit when in excess. 

The Duel

 

The fire is iced in the box-

unkindled lies in a lair. 

Awakes when the desire knocks,

or hides deep inside somewhere.

Sometimes its fragrance escapes

as the ice vapours away. 

Then this fire new attire drapes,

and no frost can make it sway. 

Gloves are off when undisguised-

ice on fire or fire is iced. 

The Beach

 

She waits for the tide to ebb.

Old bones creak with every step. 

She drags on with resilience

for the beach gives her the pep.

Wine-Less

 

The days appear so clear now-

proof of a long pending vow.

Though dusk lures with its intent-

the wine does not tempt somehow.

Best Is Yet To Come

 

Roller coaster days are gone.

What thrill it was to ride some.

When you weigh the pros and cons-

you sense - best is yet to come.

As you stand at a crossroads,

savour those moments and hum,

memories discard and hoard-

you trust - best is yet to come.

And the chords of the soul strum-

you know best is yet to come.

Subtext

 

Your words do not match the tune. 

An offbeat smile on the face. 

How long can you be immune,

and let the soul not surface?

Why do you so camouflage,

and withdraw into your shell?

For I know you by and large,

and I am under your spell. 

Memories throb and riot -

even though you are quiet.