Old Age Plans

When I will grow old,
have lots of time to think
and nothing else to do;
Then I will think about you.

I will sit on my rocking chair,
put aside my false teeth,
Sip a little whisky with lots of ice
and try to make sense of my life-
without you.

Sudden thunders and lightnings
would break my reverie.

I will slowly take another swig
put the glass on the side table
and resume to ponder about
your affair with me.

But I guess I will be too old
to remember every detail by then

So I will just shrug my shoulders
finish off my glass of whisky,
Open the windows to let the
fresh scent of rain fill the room
And read a book instead.

Meera

Meera took to the streets,
shouting her Lover's name,
breaking the shackles of shame
and society.

She strung with melody
Her simple songs of Love,
and soon the whole city
was reciting her poetic affair.

She bothered not for once,
about reason or rhyme.
She had forgotten herself
and everybody else.

Just to be,
Another Lover of Thine.

Walk in the Park

The old park bench,
by the fountain,
is lonely, this evening.

It has turned its back on the teeming garden
and blooming flowers;
The old park bench is thinking,
this evening.

Its edges have bumped infant heads
and crude curses from gentle mums
have made them blunt.

Many lips have sealed on it,
and Heart signs have been etched, with keys.
Innocent Love, is preserved on it.

Many minds have emptied over it,
Cigarette butts have left holes,
circular and charred.

Promises have been broken,
Gossips have passed ears on it,
Its wood is bending under their weight.

The paint has weathered away at places
and the vulnerable wood has accepted fungus
as a part of it.

The old park bench,
is lonely, this evening
It wants to tell all these stories
to someone, before nightfall.

~ After reading TBG- Search...