A prose-poetry inspired by the beautiful picture (titled Blue Hyacinth) Paul put up on his site. Click here to look at his brilliant work. You are truly gifted Paul…thank you so much for letting me use this picture (it’s my favourite from the recent set you uploaded)! My words may not completely justify the beauty of what you have captured but I hope my appreciation has traveled a little way towards you in the form of this poem!
Morning Sun is pleasant and bright, with no clouds blocking its sight.
It looks at my tanned skin, with an unexplained passion within.
It wishes it could hold me close, if only it could spare my charred woes.
White saree clings to my body and sweat runs down my back.
I walk along the curves of the road, as my own curves make a lovely show.
My silver anklet gleams in the light, showing off its spirited style.
The sun desires me more; it glimmers with all its might.
I put a hand in front of my eyes, not pleased, annoyed instead!
I walk along further, leaving my footsteps in sand.
I can feel him watching my behind.
He’d like to be by my side.
To hold my hand, to be my guide.
For I know he smiles so, as the moon at night reflects his glow.
To guide my steps, to help my sight.
To embrace me in its soothing light.
I pick a fallen flower, one that is separated from its kin.
Into my hair’s dense labyrinth, I place the gentle Blue Hyacinth.
He watches with agony, as the flower takes his place.
For he only wanted to adorn me with his chivalrous grace.
He weeps till his desires melt, he wipes off the fears upheld.
He vows to dazzle more intent, to scorch my sweet summer scent.
And the world now cringes as he bathes it with his fury.
And one knows not that his increased might
Is fueled by a love lost in the ocean tides….