To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
Nocturnal solace Jamuns, twisted in the monsoon breeze seep into garden crevices oscillating, the leaden branches cave in, parched leaves hang limply riddled by yellow. Nestled nightly atop the billboard, a peacock tastes droplets of rain, now rivulets hastening across its expansive tail. Alone, unchastened, it feasts in mock splendor no more the stoic sentinel, simmering, singed by brazen beams. Here, halting sheets, staccato, ascend my iron-clad windows, dalliance of watered colors envelop me. I, still silent, stand cocooned, deafened by shafts of lightening. In my coverlet of rain coupled by folds of dew-encased linen, I am no longer alone but shielded against that monochrome of grey, the domed sky of a summer's night. |
Additional Notes:
Jamuns are a common type of fruit in India.
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!