This & That

You were running late,
But then you thought,
What if I ran two blocks,
That would save time a lot.
Straight out from a movie script,
In style you hopped and skipped,
Just round the corner,
Was the place 'La'Conner.


Ruffed hair,
Wrinkled tie,
Beads of sweat,
Sun in eye.
Almost made it in nick of time,
Part of you is feeling sublime..

Alas,
Your Bella donna is already there,
Smiling her heart away
On this random musician,
Who you just hope is gay.
She looks enamoured,
The crowd seems enraptured,
Soon he ends the song,
And strums the last note,
On his willow wood mandolin...
The crowd is awe stuck in silence,
With music stuck in their soul
And then they go,
Bravo, Encore!

With the bars set high,
You walk up to her,
And look her in the eye.
You can only hope,
And prey to the sweet lord,
That solely with you would she,
Reminiscence the love song.
Lyric to lyric, chord to chord.

And as the crowd rustled by,
It seemed as though,
She was the only constant,
In the evanescent evening sky..

The silhouettes vaporize,
As you sit outside,
Still mesmerized.
Chatting with a glass of liquor,
Slowly the stars begin to flicker.
Together you stare at them,
As though they are,
Morse codes to decipher.

The silence is broken,
As the waiter drifts in,
Dinner,
Cheese, bread, Ravioli,
Tiramisu and Ricciarelli.

Ricciarelli, too fancy she says,
Ravioli,too simple you say.

And the topic drifts,
Into something as trivial as colours.
You like blue,
And she likes
Some form of red,
So you quiz,

"What is wrong with the colour blue?
Well nothing, Its just not red...
And what's so special about red?
It just doesn't make you feel the blues..!"

"So, that mug to your right, is kind of red,"
She begs to differ,
"Nah Uh, not so in my head, because,
Nowhere does it fall anywhere close,
In the spectrum of acceptable red!"

After much contemplation,
And deliberation,
Finally,you agree,
And promise to find,
That acceptable red,
And never make her feel,
The terrible blues.

You don't like this,
And she doesn't like that
But, you do mould into,
Each others yin and yang.
And fit perfectly in tandem,
Like two words, random,
Which go well together...
Like This & That

Stardust

The land of Shangri-la,
Or as they say,
The mystical land of heaven,
Was perforated.
And from in between
Those million spaces
The amateur stars,
Just tumbled and
Slipped through.

Riding on the arms
Of the squally wind.
And leaving behind
A trail of promises,
To go back.
They stumbled upon the exit,
But never found the way out.

We are made,
As the myth says,
From the dust
That falls down,
Along with the
shooting stars.
There is an
Entire universe,
Swirling within us.
And the supernova
Beating in our hearts.
The mind tuned to,
The music of the
cosmic stars.
To the rhythm divine,
You and I,
are sublime,
You and I,
Are nothing but
Stardust.....

Too Much Time To Kill

Staring at pigeons on window sill,
Have got ample time to kill...

I heard this one...cooing,
I thought,
What the hell is it doing??
Who is it wooing?
Well then, it flew..
But another one came through...
Again this one starts cooing...
Aahh who are they perusing??

These pigeons on window sill,
Have got ample time to kill.

It's just sitting there,doing nothing,
Not even caring to flap its wing.
It looks coyly to its right,
Then double coyly too its left,
Then left-right,left-right and left.
I thinks its been left bereft,
By that damsel on the other window sill,
Which too has got ample time to kill.

They have perched for hours,
Meditating on higher powers,
Standing still,doing nothing,
Like salt and pepper shakers.
That's when the damsel decided,
To cut the chase and end the pause,
Its time to take matters into her claws.
So she flew and soared and came by his side,
But then,this stupid cooing piegon,with his pride,
Strutted along,slipped and plummeted downside :P

She cooed her heart out,
Had tears of mirth I say,
That's when the pigeon one,
Swooped in...
Right next to the damsel on window sill,
Cooing together,too much time to kill!