Treasure Island

lalitha iyer

(7.6.1967 / Kochi, India)

Some melody thoughts


Softly they whisper
the hearts of love
tenderly they kiss
the hour of dove.

they are not starry headed
they are blind hearts
they are not moony bedded
they are life blooded

they are found in the grassy beds
in the lap of tiny dew-wet lawns
in the squirrels lusty leaps
in the pigeons velvety neck to neck pecks.

when I lie upon the night
in the sandy shores
they sail across the smelling waves
and caress my locks lulling my eyes

they are not bought and sold in shops
they are not luminaries in the pops
they are not commercial heroines or heroes
they are just lovely heavenly bliss hidden inside shoes

they cup inside the fragrant flowers
they coo with the winter birds
they lick you like the pet puppy wild
they give love with a heart of purest child.

when the magic wand is on
all leaves turn into viola strings
all trees guitarists hands
and all air vibrant with mysterious sounds.

when the lazy earth seeded with passions sperm
longs to sleep in lethargic icy costumes
babes of beauty they crawl and climb
upon my heart with hugs and lisping rhymes.

Submitted: Thursday, January 09, 2014
Edited: Thursday, January 09, 2014
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