The advent of joy

A pellucid drape of beauty and mirth,
the cadence of which allows thought;
that of the inornate waterfall…eternal;
a billowing verve, an aura embracing life.
I wonder how so the entirety drenches,
lost in your love so virgin…


The wishes you caress,
those set afloat by closed eyes and whispers,
bloom as our morning flowers…
a reason to behold the rapture.
The worlds decorate themselves thus,
an indulgence you jauntily offer.

The untold stories of happiness,
those melodies that teemed with love,
the clandestine plans for celebrations,
the festival of rapture.
A blessing as they say you are to the worlds,
an occasion rejoiced where we blend with bliss.

A dream’s expression....

A dream’s expression

Embark it does, like a melody sung,

just from those sprightful verses.

Astounded how emotions weave a form,

a concert I see, verses that get composed.

Sublime they were, I am embraced.

Immortal dreams in love’s placenta.

Waking up, to be left amazed in mirth,

picture I, petals and butterflies, not verses.

So in bliss, purity of which enraptures.

Away though from that aria,

a blanket of dreams billows,

enwreathing and exalting cognition to love.

I wonder how every dawn is eager of,

if it were just the ballads,

rehearsals of whom culminate now.

The frenzy in the performance,

reflects the overwhelming desire to impress…

where love takes over, silencing the artless.