Music

Hum of the bees to flower.

Sway of the leaves to the trees. 

The chimes of the bells each hour,

and moos of a cow appease. 

Echoes to the deep valleys.

Streams to the rugged mountains. 

Silence of cobbled alleys,

the burble of the fountains. 

Music is breath to a soul-

know it, feel it, let it roll.

Somewhere There

Take me where the blue waves roll onto sand.

The sun and the moon by turn rise and land.

Where the flock of birds mingle with footprints,

and slow as a turtle is the time’s hand. 

Bull

One noon a lady saw a running bull.

Hither and thither she scampered frightful.

But once caught - the fear turned into a feast,

and chomped away for dinner plentiful.

A Pink Monsoon

The trees sway to the wind-brush.

The sky pinks with a deep blush.

And as the temple bells toll-

evening dusks to a sweet hush.