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Blissful Write.
She came stealing in,
Fused in my sense and Soul.
Rain drops still drummed
Over the thick green leaves,
As wet air teased
Wooden window panes.
Power goes off during
Rainy nights, a blessing
For those who engage in
Soulful disputes by the moon!
Whispers made us settle
The arguments of moods.
Her lips moistened, eyes
Lost links to her brain,
It seemed, as she boarded
Wings of winds and waves!
Searched and found a pen,
With quivering fingers
She started a writing,
Until the last dropp of
Ink filled was done!
Ecstatic end of an act
Full of passions, pain
And delights immense.
Intelligence and wisdom
Played not much a role.
Had her first work done
And in dreams waiting
For an auspicious pulse
To publish and feel proud!
Spring-bound gardens
Sing in her praises now,
Rainy Moon-lit nights are,
I See, not far behind! .
