Treasure Island

Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

buttons


The colossal deodar tree was embossed with infinite
buttons of parrot green,
which swayed frivolously with ravishing currents of
enigmatic breeze.
The sky was flooded with buttons of flocculent white,
Dispersed into cocoons of rain yielding humid gas.
The contemporary pistol was embedded with a fleet of
compact lead buttons,
Capable of annihilating palpable entities to lifeless
souls.
Palatial waters of the emerald ocean were abundant
with hordes of fish,
Which swam with acrobatic ease in swirling
waters; under the nocturnal moon.
The sizzling agglomerate of continental soup was
resplendent with buttons of
tubular mushroom,
Which disintegrated into sumptuous splinters when
savored by a cluster of
teeth.
Pellucid glass of the time piece; incorporated slender
buttons of metal,
Which arduously circulated in clockwise journeys
throughout decades of
survival.
Succulent pulp of the watermelon; held captive a
plethora of brown buttons,
Which had sour juice trapped in deep recesses of soft
kernel.
The driving wheel of scintillating automobile;
possessed a conspicuously protuberant button,
Producing discordant sounds when compressed to supreme
angularity.
Mammoth jerry cans of cow milk; consisted of tangible
buttons of salubrious
cream,
Which reinvigorated dreary mechanisms of the body with
unprecedented energy.
The magnanimous jaw of alligator was juxtaposed with
an army of acerbic
button,
Ready to ferociously strip bountiful flesh from strong
bone.
Silver sands of the sea shore were emollient with
surplus fillings of mystical
buttons,
Which shone brilliantly in the midday sun; nestled in
tranquil under a cameo of
stars.
And visual apparatus of my eye was blessed with
translucent buttons of
vision,
Which envisaged her love in the day; inevitably
sighting her on every piece of
land,
Sleeping in contentment with her fragrance
pilfering my thought
flow for the ruthless night. 

Submitted: Sunday, August 17, 2014

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