Poetry, Quill

A Vintage Rustic Smell I Love

There used to be a candle on my table

Placed under an old, frail drawerIt carried souvenirs of the yore

And a vintage rustic smell I loved

It was kept the same way, unlit and unsoiled in perpetuum

But one day,I broke the rule,

And with a match the candle bloomed

It illumed the room and dismissed my gloom

I re-lived my dearest treasuries

That night, I re-lived my precious memories

By the next morning the candle had deliquesced

What left of it was its melted wax and its pleasant whiff

My room smelled the same as my candle did

A vintage rustic smell I loved

Which reminded me of memories beloved.

Poetry, Quill

A Seed of Love

A seed of love planted deep in the heart
Its roots steadily seizing the entire part.

The first leaf arose with a new beat
Short, soft and sweet.

The first bud arrived with the first titter
Introducing to a being, as sparkly as glitter.

And as the bud bloomed, so did the soul
Begetting a new whole.

I was born this way
I was born of love
And you,
Were too.


A Breath of Fresh Air

Strange. The air smells different today,
Fresh, unruffled and without a trace of dismay.

Brimful, of this zephyr, I inbreathed mirth,
One divine breath, of plenty worth.

Drenched, I am, in this tranquil breeze,
And so immensely packed with elation that I wish time’d freeze.

Poetry, Quill

The Perils of Forever

Its promise enchants us

And assuages our sore hearts

For a yearn to seek solace

Asked, to catch hold of this place

We flit, to seize it

And, to its eternalness we submit.

Even after,

Having known its legacy

We often neglect its tendency

To not exist.

And anew the inevitable never

Triumphs over the non existent forever

Poetry, Quill

From Oblivion

Awake that night
I could hear my heart, beat
Awake that night
I could see my dreams, betide
Awake that night
I could feel my spirit, await

That night was what, I was.

Awake tonight
I can feel my heart’s, glee
Awake tonight
I can see my dream, become a reality
Awake tonight
I can hear my spirit’s, revelry

Tonight is what, I will be.

Poetry, Quill


I am a piece of everything

A ray of sunshine on the first day of spring

A note from the song the nightingale sings.

I breathe with liberty

In the space’s infinity

I am, a flake of divinity.

A drop of the ocean

Filled with emotion

A shard, of selfless devotion.

Yet, I do not belong to anybody

I am my own

Always was

Always will be

But still, a piece of everything.