28 October 2011


Her mystical smile embraces my thoughts like a snowflake in the wind melting away with time.

She sits upon my mind like I sit upon a mountain of beauty viewing life and seasons hoping she will drink with me from the cup of love.

Her beauty is like the sunrise - each gives light to the earth - and her voice like sweet music between midnight and dawn…soothing a tearful infant in discomfort.

She is supremely talented in kindness and her persona is one that cannot be compared with any other woman born from her culture.

Enslaved in a spiritual trance, I find myself in the wilderness of her aromatic fragrance, which keeps me caged within my own thoughts and like poetic expressions written upon the beautiful winds of India, I see the manifestations of her enchanted beauty.

She is the goddess of my thoughts and the prayers that fill my nights with wholesome silence.

What I feel for her cannot speak with the flow of an ordinary pen upon paper.

Instead, my feelings represent the dialogue of a precious love that she can never hear but will always feel…upon the beautiful winds of India.

*Image from here


26 October 2011


Is it possible for the silence of the wind to echo the whisper of love and not be heard?

My prose poems have been published in the winds that carry them into the dreams of a lonely woman to learn of my deepest secrets.

She quietly reads each line with a humble, faithful heart…savoring the mystical flavor of love in her memory before falling asleep.

So magical are my words that in an awe-inspiring way, I can feel her lips dancing with mine among each written stanza.

So enchanted is her imagination that even multiple pangs of distress are removed from her heart when she sees a flower blooming in her image before the throne of love.

She is the lonely woman...the gentle voice in the wind proclaiming the beauty of our love with delicate expressions for every listening ear.

*Re-posted here...
**Image modified from here


24 October 2011


"The Love Letter", Emile Levy 1872

My darling, only through printed pages will you come to know my thoughts of love, for my heart remains shackled beneath the merciless flames of lonesomeness.

Hopefully, the virtues of sweet love will help me to understand that this fraction of my life can only be enjoyed when you appear again in my dreams bearing my favorite flowers.

Sadly, I will never be the same man I used to be when you were in my presence…instead I have become a trembling hand writing my emotions for you on printed paper.

The vigor & vitality that used to possess me mean nothing now, simply because I cannot pour my passionate strength into your beautiful heart.

Our separation represents the inability to love with freedom under the twilight zone of the heart where lovers cry from joy and ecstasy in each other's arms.

Lady Flower, not only will you read how much I love you upon printed pages, but more importantly, it is there that you shall see the vision of my inconsolable face with your beautiful reflection residing in my tear-filled eyes.

*Image source


16 October 2011


When you look away from me bashfully, you fill my mind with many photographs of a sensuous woman concealing her romantic desires.

Even your casual, innocent gestures in this crowded room reveal the interest your loving heart has for mine.

Any polite conversation with you fills me up with the kind of happiness that fulfills a man's dreams with the sweet fragrance of an everlasting perfume.

The blood running through my veins seems to bear the scent of a princess like you whose kisses are like a burning torch glowing in the heart.

Beautiful Lady Flower, quench my thirsting eyes with the feminine enchantments hidden behind your sultry smile.

Take me to an altar of beauty where lovers bearing the same treasures of the soul give romantic worship.

Darling, my quivering spirit is most humble in your midst, for this beautiful glory of you even has me behaving bashfully myself.


05 October 2011


Darling, if for some reason you were to trample upon my heart with your pretty feet, it would still mean everything to me because of the tinkling of your anklets.

Please know I am compelled to cherish even those who refuse to accept my love beneath these firestorms of life.

Even when we were within the embrace of winter, the essence of your warm breath reminded me of a flower garden in spring.

My eyes are full of sweet love, but my heart remains thirsty for the kisses of the only woman I desire to bathe my lips with hers.

There is no tomorrow to fill these empty arms of mine with a new lover as yesterday with you still lives in my thoughts.

My soul never sleeps and my spirit stays awake humbly supplicating your heart to rekindle the passionate desires you once had for me.

My precious darling, yesterday with you is all I have before the beauty of time steals away the memory of you from inside this aching heart of mine