MORNING TRYST

How lovely is my morning tryst

as I walk with you on the wet grass

of  our soft dewy memories

filled with tears of past sadness and present joy

when our breezy feet move lightly  as plastic toy

on heads of tiny , smiley flowers--

on a sprawling bed of dapple green

as if containing springs of steel  thin--

an enchanting mix of white, pink and purple

that on our way to happiness  so proudly dazzle.

Swimming  across morning’s glorious face

in an ocean of sparkling mages --

of a romancing  Sky’s new dress

under a  pink Sun’s balmy grace;

and  here we listen to those birds’ address

that heal hearts of broken plants

and lovers’ pangs  easily redress;

in twitters of a true love

Nature’s woes they resolve

when  we humans reside

under masks of painted hide

before in secret doses of lust

our false love do we confide.

Come out of your skin, Love

kiss the petals of cosmic  soul

drink deep in morning dew

before into a drowsiness we roll.

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi

01/10/14