By Anjali Keneri
Splendid surrounds—just glance at them in leisure:
The morning, crimson dawns, cotton clouds, chirping pleasure.
Artistic beetles, butterflies, dragons with fury's dearth—dragonflies,
Dews on delicacies, saffron on fields, deep breath, open petal-eyes.
Pinkish cheeks on early foggy morns,
Aura of sun cutting in through,
Raging flames, elixir felt on dark, cold nights—
Lit up amid snow, a glowing view.
Tranquil breeze across the arena,
Festive milieu, smiling greens,
Flavors of strawberries, red-blessed freshness,
A dance of vibrant scenes.
Healthiest mornings, lazy sleep vanishing
With rays from the morning star.
Early chirps—sonnets of winged creatures witnessed—
Trees greener by far.
Boughs with golden leaves,
A carpet of fallen yellow dreams,
Ecstasy of mingling shades: amber, canary, glitter-gold, oranges—
The earth’s painted themes.
Pitter is a phase, prose of patter follows—
Mourning skies above.
A seven-colored palette of nature, precisely made—
A bridge to heaven, woven with love.
White winters, pleasing springs,
Flamed-up summers,
Orange autumns,
Mudaromatic monsoons—what a beautiful calendar!
Dusky, dusty evenings,
A cut-through arrival of star-riddenness.
Again, crimson: the spectacular farewell of one
To welcome countless.
Dreams through night—
Our inner howling wolves summoning the moon in us,
And the moon of black sings mutely,
Sonnets of lullabies in a cold air rush.