Beside the trifling seashore,
Eyes laced with vanilla,
The moon lackadaisical in demeanor,
And the wimpy sunrise,
Assimilating all the luminous glow,
Somewhere in the horizon.
The purple sea,
Shrouding the vastness with its dead silence.
It was only Him,
Like a drop of whisper,
Sweeping over the sea.
In the pertinent drum-roll in Her heart,
The aroma of ginger in the tea,
In the lingering essence of lavender on Her skin,
In the venomous surge of ever-ripening Desire,
The tamarind fields in the distant,
Dipped in embalming flavour of Summer.
In the depths of Her joy,
Adorned like the jasmine in Her hair,
(Gokarna, New Years Eve 2011)