How could, fall be, as sweet, as spring
Is she, that, profound paradox!
I hear, the distant rain, still sing
Lingering flame, of love, her smile evokes!

She met me, on a, cold spring day
When tulip farms, blood-bathe, in love
With a, shivering hand, holding nosegay
Whilst the, other one dead, in a, worn-out glove!

Did time, change us, in a, few decades!
Just the, fleeting façades, of a, shrinking skin!
O’er, mortal charade, love’s lasting shades
Still dared, two hearts, to sink, in sin!

Her lap, still feels like, passion’s hearth
Her shriveled lips, sweeter than, silken sham
All the worth, of my, lasting mirth
She Is, A Splintered, Jar Of Jam!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra