The bride, of springs, is the widow, of falls
In the, purple cradle, swings, violet sin
Whose mystique, lasts through, lost recalls
Like a, burst of bliss, deep down, within!
Beyond azure, canvas, of the sky
Spreads out, the vale, of mauve mist
Lest I, be blind, still by, mind’s eye
I can see, all shades, of Alchemist!
Where I learnt, to live, and love, and long
In faith’s farm, dreams forgot, to age
Soul, sings along, heart’s, lasting song
Through, beauty’s, fertile pilgrimage!
I’ve measured, with, heartbeats of time
Their breaths, from Mays, to Septembers
And with, my passion’s, paradigm
Those Long Furlongs, Of, Lavenders!
© 2021 Vikas Chandra