A small poem inspired from the most attractive Woman- (My Muse), Who, I hope will one day return my attraction after reading this.
She came floating in my life like a cloud, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.
A philosopher once said- “Love is a delusion that one woman differs from another.” I don’t know If it was a delusion or an Illusion that I was seeing the most attractive soul on this planet, but she was certainly leaps and bounds ahead in terms of personality and gravitas than an other girl I had met before.A breath of fresh air to say the least.She would glide past me every now and then, and I had no idea whether to initiate a conversation or just stand still and admire her magnificence. She would walk, talk, and express in a demeanor which was impossible to resist.I was enamored by her presence. It was a far cry from ordinary, workaday, and mundane . She had a clarity of thought and the confidence and attitude to say things as if every word coming out of her mouth was a gospel, for she was nothing short of a Goddess in my mind. But there was still an air of mystery around her that was hard to decipher.
“What is that you express in your eyes? It
seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.”
― Walt Whitman
Once in a blue moon
I forget to forget her;
Armies of desire and passion come with a large platoon,
Once in a blue moon;
There’s a dark place where we meet,
Secluded from the light of words and obligations.
Time is lost in a loop when she walks past adusting her hair,
No one breathes a sigh, for she has conquered the air.
Even water hates gravity when she washes her face.
The touch of her naked skin makes those droplets go ablaze.
When her black eyes meets mine a stupor ensues,
And we lock each others gaze.
I live eternity in those few seconds,
wondering if blinking would invite doom.
Once in a blue moon.
The sun casts no shadow of her,
She hides behind the light of moon.
Mirrors forget the art of reflection
When she comes dressed in full bloom.
Once in a blue moon
Nature’s aware she can’t be reproduced,copied or projected,
For replication is meant for mortals and fools.
How can she be owned by one single person or a close friend,
When kings were meant to fight for her hand.