In the midst, of wilds, still tryst, us twain
Thru spring’s, musings; recalls of, falls
Your love, I nurture, with my pain
And wake up, to your, soul’s calls!
Where first, we met, to never part
Amidst a, million yens, abloom
There echoes, still, my Mozart-heart
Song of, our love; psalm of, our gloom!
“I’m Rosemary, your purple, mist”
So true, was she, and sill, she is
“Love is, world’s greatest, alchemist”
She sealed, it with, immortal kiss!
It was life, not love, that bid adieu
Eternal bliss, of a, bereaved bard
The Purest Purple, amidst, my blue
Your Tombstone, In My, Lavender Yard!
© 2021 Vikas Chandra