Ask the pillow that tends my weary head,
a soul semi dead in the ersatz warmth
of a hush paled night full of fears,
shed one more or a thousand rainy tears
in chasm stillness, without a voice.

Ask the morning that rises
jaggedly in smoke and mirrors,
taking me through a day
of memories worn thin,
starving from futility
and bleary eyed fantasy.

Ask the coffee maker how his coffee
wakes me to bleak uncertainties
that I can walk unencumbered,
without faltering steps,
downlonely paths of labyrinths
in buff-blush bare,
wearing only my rose brushed dreams

I was born into this world, a beggar,
surrounded by opulence
You were at my banquet, dressed to kill,
the main attraction….
…….Remember?
I was the, bland, wall flower stranger
who passed by…un-noticed

Ask the sultry breeze strolling late at midday,
brushing my hair, tickling my neck,
whispering love poems, strumming my chords
You were behind me,unaware
of the beguiling sun falling down
swirling chimera
fragrances of rose petals

Ah! If only you could listen
to my best friend, the moon!
How I have spent long graceful
twilights sublime,
writing silver stardust verses of rhapsody rhyme
that keep Luna awake in longing
till a belated dawn

Ballads sung sweetly, softly champagne low,
Can you see those fine uncertain blush lines
on the face of such a pure effervescent moon?
Those are my lip prints!

Your name remains a mystery,
as I pour from my soul cup to yours
unlocking every passage to your inner court…