Our love rests in our dawdle of thoughts,

Our love is a canvass of Picasso’s works.

Our love has a striking resemblance to

Utopia, land of lucid light.

The night is dark and deep,

The faint light which glows from my eyes blinds you

Momentarily,

There is a powerful mystic enigma of this love

 and the room gets haunted

With Beethoven’s Symphony. 

You lie still , in this thick velvet night

When sleep is engulfed with  bittersweet melodies,

 Beethoven and Tchaikovsky .

Our love is what we feel a rainbow of unknown colors,

Etched in insipid dreams.

                 All of a sudden we hear echoes of Moorish yester years

Float in flamencos gleeful squeals

Of laughter from our mundane thoughts.

I am in your arms you drag me on the wooden floor,

Which turns to Stratford’s gravel walk.

I hear a jingle at the door, you softly tell me in my ears.

“Sweetheart” today’s audience is   Mozart and Robert Frost

I am astounded you hold me tightly

You in your faded jeans and a bare torso,

I am in my red satin pajama and a lacy top, and there we go.

We dance the most unprofessional dance

Occasionally you pick me in your arms.

We are amazing in every way,

Compliments and sensuous delight marks the glory of this night.

What do you think can it be as always you say,

© sohini saha

 

 

( picture used for representational purose only)