Chapter 1: Scoops of Nature

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*If there is some symphony in twilight and snow,
then it must be Eden,
we’d whatsoever wouldn’t know.

* The air which may have it,
is evaded and written in books..
When simplicity procures a synonym of willful complexity.
Still say “hallelujah”! 

 * What are the trees standing for in a perfect line,
air flowing from everywhere to meet you;
though they mayn’t know the formal courtesies,
we shall promptly advance
and as well wish in our very own language- 
A blessed morning to all!


Long-exposure photograph of fireflies in a forested area near Nagoya City, Japan

* It was the silver daisy night where moon was constantly dropping and stars didn’t know the way to sit so i taught them how to still ..what Farhan Akhtar is a flamboyant bachelor inside? 
This wasn’t really happening as i was looking out of the window with cycles flashing by..aye jump on the trampoline as it is the last paper!

* Queen carried over by numerous dark knights in a palanquin,
surrounding her beauty,
no eye could take a glint away from it,
such was the thin,yet,intricate veil about.
Did it strike thunder within?
Look up.That is the Moon calling.

* This runway for the cocoa fairy,
in an Eden balancing act over the top;
accompanied by a breaking storm,
were the flocking grey feathers,
as if,interlacing the heady clouds.


Remote beach in the Similan Islands, Thailand

Every brief encounter amidst consciousness,
the trembling lapse of perfection,
call it epiphany..
what did just happen? 
In the Noah’s Ark,waves dripping underneath..
a bottle so green is popping and crackling.

* To bid a gradual farewell,
wasn’t to etch a finality;
with “..the soft swell of pink and aquamarine in the sky,behind the car.Dawn is following us.”-hailing my dear.
Maybe,a meet in another cosmic wave,
in spite of this apogee,
however the largesse;
all the fondness that grows,
nurtured by distance,
it isn’t goodbye yet.

* Like shoelaces undone,
as if amiss is the Sun,
some dearth on the land,
nothing more splendid though dull,
a living illusion,
downright stirring within,
how wholesome,yet a magnificently drilled and screwed up hole.
What can that insatiable space be called?
It works neither with,nor without it.


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* Babe, glorified is not one’s appearance,
by a swanky spa; 
but the way sky is,
by its relative celestial elements. 
Such is the nature,
of concealed beauty,
midst the stoic beings.

When an expansive vermilion hue,
could make us some;
then starry night,
oh what a fetch!
If the bells ring,
assured is awesome wholesome!

* What better could a day be called,
when you hit upon a reminiscent scent,
or it’s a stroll back to the dainty crescent.


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* When the grave in its healing,
leaves into withering,
silence was all that resounded.

Upon the age of dawning,
slithered out many, awed;
by the befalling crescence on a moon.

* O’ merciful divine,
why cradle the pearl between beach and shore,
when fire could be ignited with a pebble.

Moon ! Let me cease you right there ,
wanna embrace the shine.


Brilliant red male Northern Cardinal in bare tree in winter

* Ultimately, lost finds oneself amidst the green.

O beauteous moon come full,
why hide thy beauty..that makes one’s night !

While everyone waits for the Sun,
the harbinger of fresh beginnings;
spare that new white orb.
It aye sparking any night!


Fireflies colour the wilderness,
the beings who’d walk that extra mile;
in their simplistic greatness,
bead through the rosary 
and lay a flower- bed burial.

* In the bowl of faith,
if sail and rake dismayed hopes,
oh drown i would,
other than in its unfathomable sea!
Should one fish out the mermaid,
or simply corals;
that’ll always hackneyed time will tell !

* Flame once exists,
blown out at once on a whim. 
Other incenses carry it over within,
inspiring a provoking perfumery.
The mouth once of a kind,
wants to satiate again.
Though.. who would like to remember the transience of bubbles?


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* Had seen the rocks, 
impressioned upon by waves.
Now winds herald,
beyond our conscience.
All that can be marked with bravura –
Rolling stones gather no moss.

*  Would know no moon,
if i were on Mars.
Would soothe no tear or fetch few dinted smiles,
underneath some pale tomb.

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The pristine light sans shadows;
just a glow in its vast expanse.
Germination of an only tree,
with few hopes to hold on to.

* Had it not been for the crooner,
the sky, moon and the stars would be defied. It’s for its purpleness that wraps the glow,which could just be eternal.In its calling, there lies..the elixir; being as essential as to some pallid face. Nothing goes without it.

* Why seat yourself amidst the antipodes;
while here awaits descent, 
for us to trade with your glistening spirit, O’ Moon!


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