The Memories of a Dancing Peacock
( Based on a true incident captured in my Camera )
I was in a mood to sing, and
The Peacock was in a mood to dance,
My singing came, while watching the beauty and
The beauty started unfolding its wings and charms,
As if the Peacock was listening the songs,
I was singing, silently in my mind.
Oh, what a joy it was to feel and share,
Those wonderful moments
I spent with that beautiful bird,
Who kept dancing and dancing,
Till the song continued in my mind silently.
You and I may not be dancing or living forever, O, bird,
But the image, which you have engraved on my mind and
The rhythms of that joy and pleasure,
Which you have left,
Would continue to generate always,
The music of silence and beauty in every mind.
Kanpur India 28th December 2011
NOTE:IMP. NOTE: The Memories of a Dancing Peacock
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When lost in the Aegean Sea, I heard a song afar from my sails;
Blinded by the fogs, I sail to the direction of that voice.
Guided by the sweet voice and arouse by the melody, I followed the path of which I knew not,
And found myself drifting ashore a foreign land.
Haul by the passing mist; I saw a hill that rose above the lands,
My ship was in the middle of the two great hills that looked down and over the shores.
I looked above and saw no clouds, just the blue skies; I could still hear her voice
The wind blew ever so gently as I move my rudder,
That song can still be heard, yet I know not where she is?
I looked to find that voice that eludes me, that called me;
But, yet, I found nothing, saw no one.
She sang a sadden song, of lost love, but lost love I knew not?
I am a stranger, afar my abode, a stranger lost in the midst of seas.
Hold and steadfast, for my heart feels allured by the maiden song,
Yes...though my heart be sadden by her song, her voice drifts my soul across the Styx.
God makes all things beautiful; all things have purpose, and is her song,
Whether it be joy or sorrows, her song, is the song of a broken heart.
That took hold my empty vessel, and filled it with joy,
Though I never thought song of sorrow can be taken for a joy.
I sailed far and afar from the shores, and saw the hills moved further away.
I could still hear her song, I looked back and saw her, a fair maiden.
God's grace that showed me, a spirit of a woman, that took my heart and broke it.
Her skin as white as snow, her deep blue eyes that stared into my soul,
her hair long and gold as that of a golden fleece.
She a ghost of the past, singing to guide her lover back into her bosoms
And her lips afar from mine. At last! it was not for me.
A strong wind that force my eyes shut and bent my knees.
As I stood up and saw no more, I heard not her song, aye, neither her voice.
She was gone with the wind.
The song of the fair maiden still resonates in mine heart as I sail a distant shores.
Even if death approaches me and take'th my life,
My words of praises for her beauty will live on forever.
In these days of the dance
I will handle the bass
And strike with my finger
The strings of the guitar
Playing the tunes of love
Just to sing I love you Lord
You took me from the miry clay
You are my rock and stay
In your goodness and mercies
You showered me blessings
You school me in your kingdom college
That inspires my every knowledge
To you I give my whole heart
It will remain like that
I won’t cause heart break
For I have known how it pains
Let me be simple and plain
I want you to believe this:
I will not stir your jealousy
I will not break your heart, never
This is my song forever
This is the tune I’ll keep playing for love
Just to sing I love you Lord.
The juggler moves his fingers fast,
he likes to smile and to deceive,
when people laugh at his recast,
his goal's higher things to achieve,
for Bathsheba applauds and laughs.
Her hands she claps with sullen glee,
changed him to a marionette,
that sprawls for her obediently,
jinxed tragicomical duette,
he jumps defeating gravity.
The juggler walks on tightened rope,
St. Bernard will protect his act,
frail equilibrium's postponed,
he'll pass across, crows' croaks detract,
agleam granite pavement's below.
Unmoved he laid, (lost souls misgive) ,
the juggler sprawled did not bemoan,
the sawbones's charlatan and thief,
as Bathsheba failed to dethrone,
the clown's tangential unknown grief.
© G. V. 12/23/2012, All Rights Reserved
( Iambic tetrameter form.)
It's hard really;
To describe you in one word,
But if I had to, you'd be my
Maybe that counts as two words;
So I'll try again,
You are my
But that still doesn't give you justice,
you're always there for me when I need you
You fogave me when I was horrible to you,
And I owe you everything,
Yet I can't tell you
My simple feelings.
Your laugh, voice, are like a melody of angel harks,
Your eyes are like smooth chocolate and honey.
You have a smile that lights my darkened soul;
And if only there was a song I could send your way,
But the best song is the one from my heart,
However, that song is continually writing
As long as you are in my life, it will alwayas be writing,
Because you are;
my gardian angel
Sing, your favorite song slowly as it plays.
Dance, to that sweet melody as your body sways.
Transpose, each word as it reaches your heart.
Recall, all the memories tender, that never part.
What will we do when all the songs have been sung?
What emotion will we possess, when every tragic war has been won?
Will we stare sadly into each others eyes, and watch painfully tears go by?
Or, will we hold each other tight and simply sigh?
Can you conceive your favorite song, never to be?
Can you truly preceive the day when there are no more wars, threating us to be free?
Love would be felt in music, as our lonely hearts would recall.
Cold wars are still being fought causing death, as we stain their city walls.
Will our hearts remember rhythm? When all the songs have been sung.
What conflict will be fought, when all the wars have been won?
Without wars, lonely soildiers hearts will sing in gladness.
Without song, our souls, hearts, and minds would sink into madness.
Gladly, sing your favorite song slowly, as it plays.
Let that sweet melody consume you, as your body sways.
Transpose, each word as it reaches your heart.
Recalling, all the cold wars, that man should never start.